Into Mirkwood
by Oblivian03
Summary: The company is captured with a few notable exceptions. The orcs are closing in once again on their long sought out prey. A few chance meetings lead to some hair-raising consequences. Fate rarely smiles twice at any given time.
1. Capture

**I do not own the Hobbit or anything related to it.**

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**Note: Point of views may jump around a bit (I'll try and avoid confusing you). **

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**Chapter 1: Captured**

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When Kili came back they were gone, all of them somehow disappearing into forest below the swiftly sinking sun. Even the hobbit was nowhere to be found. The brunette inhaled and closed his eyes, trying to keep his head. They had to be around here somewhere.

Opening his eyes and looking around, the company archer let go of the breath he had been holding in. His throat itched to call out for the others and put an end to what was probably a well-executed prank but he quelled the feeling. Something felt off, wrong in a way Kili did not yet know.

He allowed his eyes to see beyond the veil of normality and expectations, looking for anything out of place. Not a hard task as almost everything was seemingly out of place. The broken arrows that were scattered around the clearing, the crushed bushes and unnaturally flat patches of sparse grass on the ground, the way everything was torn up; it all pointed to one thing; the company had fought an enemy and had either run or been captured.

It was looking more and more likely that it would be the latter as Kili bent forward to inspect one another more familiar object on the ground. There were two main reasons he believed this, one being that Fili would not just abandon him if there was danger, and the second being the fact if they had run, Bofur's beloved hat would not be in his hands at that moment.

Standing, the young dwarf observed the area. It appeared to clean, too structured to be an orcish attack, but he could be wrong. Only one way to tell.

Picking up one of the arrows, he studied it with careful, trained eyes. The workmanship was far more superior to that he had come to expect of orcs and even his own carefully crafted arrows. It was certainly too delicate to be the work of men leaving only one logical option; elves. Despite the circumstances, Kili grinned. Thorin was going to have a fit worthy of a king.

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Bilbo Baggins was a hobbit of the Shire, not accustomed to being repeatedly threatened by the point of a sword, or arrow as the case might be. This now concerning common occurrence tended to complicate things a lot. Luckily he had had the good fortune to stumble upon the ring that now encompassed the middle finger on his right hand.

They had been surrounded when Bilbo had slipped on the ring, being sure that none of the elves saw him then or beforehand. If he was smart about it, he might just be able to use this to his and the dwarves advantage. Even now he was following them at a relatively safe distance, watching as the thirteen blindfolded captives were marched towards wherever the leader of the elves resided.

The fair-haired elf in the lead was talking in a low voice to the red-haired female at his side, too low for Bilbo to hear. So instead he focused on noting any injuries or other physical obstacle that the dwarves had acquired which would hinder any rescue attempt.

Midway through his careful observations Bilbo paused as something dawned on him. He went back and counted again, doing so a third and finally a fourth time before begrudgingly allowing it to sink in. In his mind he swore, using language that would shock most of his neighbours back home in the Shire. There were only twelve dwarves. The thirteenth was missing.

The hobbit held up one hand and began to slowly tick off each of the dwarves he saw. Balin and Bifur were towards the front of the line, seemingly the calmest of the group. Ori and Nori followed behind them along with their older brother, Dori, and Bombur. Oin was right at the front of the group and Gloin at the very back, almost side by side with Dwalin. Thorin and Fili were in front of the last pair, shoulders set in a proud stance. That left two dwarves.

Bilbo's eyes scanned the group again and settled on a form wedged between Bombur and Thorin. Bofur was almost unrecognisable without his hat; something he must have dropped back in the clearing. That left one and the hobbit did not have to scrounge his brain to find the name.

Kili.

No wonder Fili had been so agitated when they were first attacked. If he remembered correctly, Thorin had sent the younger of the two to look around the small clearing they had been resting in, a precaution they all accepted after being attacked by giant spiders. They had of course not accounted for being captured by elves no less.

Dwarves could be so stubborn, thought Bilbo despairingly, had they not been so eager to reach their mountain, nor had they disobeyed Gandalf's instructions; even though he had presented reasonable arguments against it; they would not now be in this position. That wouldn't help matters now though; all he could do was wait patiently for an opportunity. First he would free these twelve and then they could sort out what to do in means of searching for the youngest of the company. With luck, the beardless dwarf would be tracking their footsteps and would be easier to find.

With luck…Bilbo almost snorted. Luck seemed to have abandoned him ever since he agreed to this preposterous adventure, but he had given the dwarves his word; he would see their home returned to them or else die trying. And he was a Baggins, what was more he was a Took and Took's never went back on their words.

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Legolas kept his gaze fixed ahead of him. He was tingling with anticipation. He had captured none other than Thorin Oakenshield, as well as the eleven dwarves in his company, a feat that would be sure to impress his father.

The fair-haired elf chanced a glance behind and was relieved to see that none of his quarries were injured; there were a few bumps and bruises, maybe a scratch or two but nothing that was of any serious damage. They had only used the necessary force they needed; it was not like Legolas wanted them dead or incapacitated, just subdued and Tauriel, being the excellent captain she was, had ensure that.

"They have chosen to resist in any way. Do you not find that concerning?"

Legolas turned to the ginger elf by his side.

"A wise choice. And in any case, if they had been planning something Tauriel, would it not be already in action?" Tauriel shook her head in disagreement with his statement.

"When we attacked, I saw thirteen heads, not twelve. Someone escaped before we had a chance to surround them, another dwarf most likely; he was certainly short enough to be one," she paused, "They have someone who is not yet under our control, someone who could set them free."

"Then that is something we must change." Legolas would not let such a victory slip from his fingers. The dwarves had trespassed into their land and for reasons that would intrigue his father and he himself was intending to find out. He turned to Tauriel, "I trust you can track this stray dwarf." Tauriel nodded.

"It is well within my ability to do so, you know this Legolas." This brought a smile to Legolas' lips.

"Ah, I do. So what is keeping you here now?"

The elfish captain noted the dismissal and bowed before darting off into the trees. Legolas watched her go, smile still ghosting across his face.

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Tauriel bent low to the ground as she ran, searching for any sign that they had been followed. Except for some slight disturbances, she could find none meaning that in order to find the dwarf, she would have to return to the clearing.

Legolas, her thoughts flew back to him. She hoped he knew what he was doing; the red-haired elf knew how much it meant to him to impress his father.

Shaking her head to clear her thoughts, Tauriel focused on her surroundings. She couldn't afford to miss anything in case it meant she missed their missing quarry. She had her orders and was inclined to follow them; it was the way she was, entirely focused on any task she had at hand and bent on seeing it through to the end. This one order would not be the first to see her fail those standards.

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	2. Tracking

**Enjoy. The points of view should be longer next chapter.**

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**Chapter 2: Tracking **

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Fili was half out of his mind with worry. They had all been captured with two exceptions; the hobbit, and his brother. While Bilbo was well within the abilities to seemingly disappear until an opportune moment presented itself, the blonde was far more concerned about the safety of his younger brother.

Kili's skill in both sword and bow was adequate enough, but if he went up against any one of these elves, he would be sure to lose. Even Dwalin and Thorin hadn't been able to withstand one elf for more than a few moments.

Being blindfolded did not help the matter either as he had no idea where he was going, probably the blasted elves' plan. His only condolence was the fact that no one seemed to be substantially hurt and they had a means of escape, unless, of course, both Bilbo and Kili were captured. Either way, in his current position, Fili could only pray.

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Kili dropped to one knee and looked around the place, searching for any signs that the trail he was following was a fake. It had been blatantly obvious so far, what with twelve heavyset, bound dwarves making their way reluctantly forward, Kili's task couldn't be easier. But elves were not to be underestimated; they were both sly and intelligent meaning that things he would otherwise take at face value he would second guess.

Another reason for inspecting the trail was to see if he could determine the number of elves that belonged to the group. If he could gauge how many potential enemies he would be facing it would help him to come up with a plan later on. Bending closer he saw a footprint that belonged to neither elf nor dwarf. The track seemed to be more recent than the rest meaning only one thing. Sitting back on his heels, Kili smiled. Trust Bilbo Baggins to evade capture yet again.

The young dwarf immediately sobered knowing that he did not have time to waste. If he was going to free the company, he needed to do it while they were still in the forest, before they reached wherever the elves were taking them.

As he stood, he wished that Thorin or Fili were with him, or even Dwalin; they always seemed to know what they were doing, guided by some mysterious force with every step they took. Thorin and Fili were the rock to his world; calm, steadfast, and always there. Right now he was lost. Even if he did catch up to the company, he had no idea how to set them free.

Looking at the hobbit's footprint a thought came to him. Maybe he could locate the burglar and together they could devise a plan. Bilbo had proven himself to be quite cunning after all.

Setting his mind, Kili began to walk again, at a much faster pace than before, following the hobbit's, and ultimately the company's trail.

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Tauriel rolled her neck, aching from keeping it and her back in the same position for so long. The dwarf was proving to be harder to track then she had first thought.

Unlike his companions, the dwarf's footprints were far lighter and harder to identify in the dwindling light. If that gave any indication of his size and weight though, it was looking up. The dwarf appeared to be smaller than the others they had captured meaning that she would be able to use less force to subdue him. It also meant she wouldn't even have the slightest chance of needing backup to bring him in, assuming the dwarf was a male, which was most likely the case.

She had gone back to the clearing and had picked up the trail from the chaotic mess of prints from the clearing. They had appeared to be fresher than the rest but that was to be expected. If he had run off when they had first attacked, he most certainly would have returned to try and pick up the tracks of his company. What surprised her was the skill of his tracking.

The dwarf seemed to pay attention to the detail around him, not just the obvious. He was covering all the bases. Impressive, even for a dwarf.

Looking up at the sky, Tauriel realised she needed to find this dwarf and fast. She was one of the best trackers, but in the dark even she couldn't make much progress. Luckily for her it meant the dwarf wouldn't be able to either. She would have preferred to have this finished by nightfall but it was looking less and less likely.

Her quarry had a good head start on her; around a half day, probably less but not by much. Frustratingly she had lost a lot of time going back to the clearing, allowing him more time to get away. There was nothing that could be done about that though, except to up her game which is exactly what she was doing.

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Legolas signalled for the group to halt as they came outside the gates. A head popped over the top.

"We want to come in," Legolas said in a clear voice. The elf at the gate looked towards the captives.

"Who are they?"

"Trespassers. We are bringing them in."

The elf at the gates nodded, accepting his response, and disappeared. A moment later the gate opened and the group was ushered in. The blindfolds on the dwarves were removed and they blinked in the change of light. Their expressions were far from pleased; one or two slightly worried and the expression on the face of Thorin Oakenshield was beyond outraged. Legolas held back a smile. Dwarves were usually stoic in nature and to have the ability to affect one like this was somewhat of an accomplishment.

"Keep moving," one of the elves that had come in barked. The dwarves begrudgingly followed the order. Watching them go, Legolas followed suit, thinking to himself. Interrogating these dwarves was not going to be easy if their rapidly darkening moods was anything to go by.

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Bilbo silently slipped in through the gates, cursing his luck as they closed behind him. Now he had to get the company out of a place swarming with elves. How he didn't know which was great.

He paused for moment, breathing and fiddling with the ring on his finger. Looking up, he started. He began to run, almost crashing into several elves, swerving at the last moment. He got through the two doors just as they crashed closed. He let lose the breath he had been holding and continued to follow the group he had almost lost.

Entering though another pair of doors, he came to a stop in what was a large chamber, much like a throne room. In the centre at the back sat a throne and upon that throne perched an elf that looked very much like another the hobbit had seen.

"And what are these dwarves doing here son?"

Bilbo watched as the fair-haired captor stepped forward.

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The figure smiled as it brushed a few stray leaves of a recent track. Sniffing the air, it's smile widened. Definitely dwarf, and, from the looks of it, alone. Perfect. Capture would be easy.

Standing, another pair of tracks caught the being's eye. Bending closer, trained eyes scanned the ground. The prints were larger than a dwarf's yet more feminine than those of a fully grown male human or elf. Female and most likely an elf; humans didn't usually come into these woods from the rumours that had been spread.

The figure looked at the directions the tracks were going. They ran almost parallel to those he had been originally following, yet they appeared to be fresher. The elf was presumably tracking the dwarf. Interesting.

Standing the scout turned back towards the group behind him. He signalled for them to move forward, glancing up at the sky as he did so. It was darkening, near night meaning they would have to stop for lack of light. He was confident the trail would still be there when they started again. Soon they would catch up with their prey, sometime tomorrow most likely. Once they had done that, finding the company of dwarves would be a walk in the park.

Falling back into the first ranks, the scout watched as his leader made his way forward. His presence was demanding and intimidating, his reputation proceeding him. As a leader of a pack of bloodthirsty orcs, these traits are what probably kept him from being murdered in the night. That and the fact he was one of the most trusted commanders of Azog, belonging to the pale orc's inner most circle.

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	3. Meeting

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**Chapter 3: Meeting **

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"Speak Legolas. I am curious to know what these dwarves are doing here," repeated the figure draped lavishly over the throne.

Thorin couldn't believe his eyes; he had almost choked on air when he had first seen the elven king. Thranduil…a rage began to boil up inside him but he pushed it down. He needed to keep his head and he certainly wasn't going to give the elves the satisfaction that they had succeeded in pissing him of completely but right now they were doing a very good job of it.

He watched with a barely masked rage as the blonde elf, Legolas it appeared he was called, stepped towards his father. Thorin shuddered inwardly. He had never imagined that the bastard had a son. The again, he hadn't thought much about the elven king, the coward that had abandoned them with Smaug had attacked Erebor. He focused his attention back on this 'Legolas'.

"They were trespassed into our land and did not give an adequate reason as to why," the blonde elf was saying as Thranduil nodded.

"Hmm, we cannot have that can we?" he said as a rhetorical question. Turning towards the company, Thranduil's gaze fixed upon Thorin. The dark-haired dwarf felt a drop of sweat run down his neck. He had no doubt the despicable elf would recognise him.

"Ah, Thorin Oakenshield. And what brings you here?"

Thorin met the elf's gaze with a belligerent stare. There was no way in Middle-Earth that he would disclose that information to this pride-driven being.

"That is none of your business."

Thranduil raised his eyebrows, obviously displeased.

"Is it now? You are on my land meaning that contrary to your beliefs, it is my business. Is that not right Legolas?"

"That is right, my Lord," said Thranduil's son the ghost of a smile upon his face. Thorin had the sudden urge to strangle him. Thranduil turned back to the exiled dwarf king.

"So I will ask again. What are you doing travelling these parts?"

The only response he got was silence and Thorin felt a swell of pride towards his fellow dwarves and nephew. Nephew…he hopped Kili had been able to evade the elves. He had a feeling they would need the help to escape. He looked up as the elven king began to speak.

"This is the only chance you get otherwise I will have to use other methods to find the answer. So this would be your last chance to tell me."

Several dwarves behind him shifted nervously but none moved forward to speak. Thorin was certain that the threat was mostly empty; elves, no matter what he thought of them, did not typically use violence to settle things. That showed in the way they had been captured, although a debate could be made they had used slightly more force than deemed fit.

"Very well, you leave me no other choice but to imprison you all."

Thorin felt two or three of the company physically relax. Thorin , on the other hand, was almost struggling to keep his composure. It had been delay after delay after delay. If this kept on happening, they were never going to reach Erebor let alone free it from the blasted dragon. They would now have to rely on his younger nephew to get them out.

As they were led through another pair of doors, a sudden thought crossed his mind. From what he could tell the hobbit had not been brought in with them meaning that they had someone else on the outside, someone who had the upper hand. He was beginning to trust the hobbit more and more; Bilbo Baggins had proved himself on that cliff top when he had saved him from Azog the Defiler. Azog…the name felt bitter and evil to Thorin, especially in name of the atrocities the pale orc had committed. The exiled king hated him more than he hated elves and that was saying something.

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Legolas watched as the dwarves were led towards the dungeons before turning back to his father.

"There's more," he said in a lower, more serious voice, "I believe there is still another dwarf out there that escaped when we caught them," he finished, gesturing towards the closing door.

"Well, then you had better find him," Thranduil said.

Legolas nodded.

"I already have Tauriel tracking him; she realised just as we were coming back." Legolas watched as his father turned towards him. He had inherited the elf's blonde hair, eyes and stature, but the almost calculating gaze belonged to Thranduil alone.

"When should she be back? The forest is changing, growing darker, and it is not safe for any one person to be out there alone."

"Tauriel is one of the best trackers we have and has proven herself to be more than an adequate opponent for anyone that choses to oppose her." Legolas understood his father's concern however and her shared the same concerns.

"If she does not come back-"

"Give her until tomorrow midday," Legolas said, cutting off his father, "If she is not back by then, I will send another party out to help recover the dwarf, and her if necessary."

Thranduil nodded in agreement.

"That would be wise. Who knows what is dwelling out there," he said, nodding towards the window behind him. Legolas inhaled. He just hoped the captain returned soon.

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Bilbo inhaled sharply, closing his eyes as his thoughts ran wild. This day just kept on getting worse and worse. Now he had to bust twelve dwarves out of prison. Sometimes he wished he hadn't signed that contract. Nothing had gone right for him since that moment and half the time it was due to the stupidity and stubbornness of dwarves. He wondered what the reaction would be if he strangled one of them.

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Tauriel shivered in the cold air as she gazed at the ground. It was almost too dark to see anything but she did have the consolation that if she had to stop due to being unable to follow the tracks, the dwarf would have to too.

Tracking the obvious put no strain on her mind and she had decided to guess what the dwarf would look like when she caught up to him. She figured he would be small, probably smaller than the other dwarves and maybe slightly less bulky. Going on the footprints, it was less than likely that her guess would be correct but it was fun trying. She imagined he would have an impeccable beard and many braids and a sort of rugged face. Maybe an overlarge nose and beady eyes. She could almost laugh at the description. It was a cross between the dwarf with part of an axe buried in his head and the one that looked incredibly shifted.

Sobering up, she realised something was there that was not supposed to be; a slight rustling sound that was out of place in the forest. Either it was the dwarf and she had unexpectedly caught up to him or it was a rather large forest animal. Lightening her step, she walked ahead silently, trying and succeeding to be as inconspicuous as possible.

As she moved closer to the source of the noise, she ducked behind a tree. Peeking out from behind it, one thought crossed her mind. Definitely not what she had expected.

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Kili blinked in the rapidly dimming light, trying to see the print before him. He was thankful the trail was obvious, it made his job easier. He himself had tried to make his trail less obvious, but considering everything, if the elves knew he had escaped capture then they would immediately assume he was following the company's trail and they were far more skilled at tracking than he was. It was far less time consuming if he just focused on the task at hand.

Standing, he looked around, getting a strange feeling he was being watched. He saw a flash of something as it disappeared behind a tree but gave it no further thought other than that of curiosity. He needed to find the hobbit and the company. Still, his skin was crawling and his brain was telling him something was wrong.

Listening to instinct, he began to cover his tracks as he moved forward. It soon became too dark to move on and he began to search for a place to stop. Looking up he smiled. A tree would be perfect; he wouldn't be able to be attacked from the ground. All he had to do was make sure he didn't fall out of it which was easy enough considering the claims that Fili had made of him spending half his life in a tree were partially true.

Grabbing the lower branches he began to climb.

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Tauriel watched as her quarry descended up the tree. Interesting; she would never have expected that of a dwarf. She had always assumed they were set on keeping two feet on the ground. Apparently she had been wrong.

As the dwarf settled into the branches of the tree, she herself began to settle for the night. She would be able to catch him in the morning when there was more light. Besides, he wouldn't be going anywhere, not with so little light.

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In the darkness a vile face smiled. They were closer than he had anticipated. This was going to be good.

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**Please review.**


	4. Nightfall

**Thanks for the reviews. I appreciate them. **

**Note: If you are confused by the time between this chapter and last chapter; last chapter was set around dusk, this chapter is like the title of it says, night.**

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**Chapter 4: Nightfall**

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Bilbo Baggins nervously twisted the ring on his finger. He had not yet seen an opening to get down into the dungeons; the door had been closed too quickly for him to slip past and now it was under guard by several ferocious looking elves, so he had decided to go looking for a means to get the dwarves in.

Sneaking down the halls he had checked every nook, crook and cranny on one side of the building in case it led to a way out; none had proven to be of use. Now he was carefully navigating his way to the opposite side, looking in every room he had missed. He had wanted to find an exit close to where the dwarves were being held, but that looked like it was out of the question which only made his job more difficult.

Sighing quietly, he moved through an open door and looked around. Another empty room with the exception of an empty bed, a small table beside it and two chairs in separate corners. That and a cold, shadowy fireplace that sent chills down Bilbo's spine.

The hobbit shook himself and looked for a way out. There was a window but it had no opening and in any case, it was way too small for Bombur to fit through. He looked for another opening; a door, a weakness in the walls, even a secret passage way. He found none meaning that he had crossed off another room off the rather lengthy list of rooms he still had to go through; that was not including the cellars below or the dungeons. This was going to take him days at the very least and then he had to find a way to communicate with the company discretely. He figured the company would owe him big time.

Looking out the window, Bilbo yawned. It had been a long day and after everything he had gone through; saving the company from spiders, narrowly escaping capture from elves, and now finding a way to bust twelve dwarves from jail; he deserved time to rest.

Quietly closing the door, he took a blanket and pillow from the bed and proceeded to curl up on it, forming a cocoon of warmth around him. He snuggled deeper into the nest and pulled the ring off his finger, hoping that no one would burst in here before he was awake and gone. He highly doubted that would happen though; the room was pretty dusty meaning it had been out of use for a while.

Relaxing into the surprisingly soft blanket, he pushed the pillow against his head and slowly closed his eyes. Dreams of the Shire hit him before he was even fully asleep.

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Legolas stared anxiously out the window in his room, cracking his knuckles over and over, something he only done when he was nervous, extremely nervous. He knew he had agreed to wait until midday tomorrow but he was seriously considering taking a party and searching for his absent captain right there and then.

His father would not hear of it though, even if he did take it seriously. There were several reasons for this, one being that Legolas was getting far too friendly and concerned over a young, _female _captain, one who was not at his level meaning it would be highly inappropriate for him to demonstrate such a level of concern. The second reason being the fact that Thranduil would not risk his son's life at night, in the almost pitch black for a mere captain, not when the dangers in the forest appeared to be growing in both amount and darkness.

Looking over to the crackling fireplace, the blonde elf remembered when he had tried to spot flickering images amongst the flames. It had been back when he was younger, way younger and far less mature. He had only been a young child though, barely out of his toddler years, seeing horses and dragons battling each other in the sky. Thranduil had found it quietly amusing, as had his mother before she had passed from a mysterious illness that had robbed her of both her health and her life. After that, Legolas had stopped seeing things in both the clouds and the flames, but tonight he was watching the tongues of fire that cast shadows over his room.

At first he saw nothing and was about to give up the childish notion when he caught a glimpse of a flaming sword and a tortured face. He blinked and the images were gone but they still haunted his mind like some sort of ominous sign.

Shaking his head, he disregarded the uncomfortable feeling in his gut, ignoring the way it was slowly intensifying. He was a warrior, not a soothsayer or a seer, and he chose to make his decisions based on pure facts not questionable images that were aimed at creeping the hell out of anyone they were seen by. Even so, he could not so easily dismiss the feeling he had that something was wrong, or going to go wrong soon.

He leaned back against the window, pressing his cheek to the cool glass to calm his racing heart. He closed his eyes and let go of the breath he had been holding. _Please come back, _he thought, seeing Tauriel in his mind, _please come back unharmed._ He doubted he would forgive himself if she came back otherwise.

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Tauriel watched the dwarf through the gloom of the dark and the leaves of the trees. He was now relatively still, though he had been shifting around a lot before, presumably trying to get comfortable. Tauriel assumed he was asleep.

Leaning back against the tree which she had her back to, she closed her eyes. Maybe she should take a leaf out of the dwarf's book and get a few winks; not as easy as it sounded considering how rock hard the ground was. Never the less, she had been in worse situations, and if half her squad heard that she had shrunk away from the idea of sleeping on the ground she would never hear the end of it. She wondered what Legolas and the rest of her squad was doing; whether they had gotten the answers they had wanted from the captured dwarves or not.

She knew she was young by their standards, and far more inexperienced, but this was a chance to prove her worth, more than prove. Why else would the prince of Mirkwood allow her to go on such a mission? That and the fact she knew he trusted her with almost anything; indeed he had been the one to tell her about his mother, something that had been before her time. He was a good friend and she knew he appreciated the way she was not always so formal with him; something which sometimes got on his nerves.

Wriggling around, she finally found a comfortable position and allowed her body to begin to relax. She felt her systems begin to slow, her breathing growing deeper as she fell into an almost dreamless state of sleep. Slumping against the ground, she sighed contently.

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Kili stared up at the sky, completely still. He had woken from his light doze to a small rustling sound off to his far left but it had quietened down, leaving the forest eerily silent once again. He was thankful he didn't snore like his brother or uncle if anything did happen to be out there. He was also thankful he was light enough to reach a spot which support well foliage branches, almost entirely hiding him from view of the ground when combined with the lightless night.

He watched a few stray fireflies for a while, thinking back to when he and Fili had tried to catch them as children. Now the sight of them made him sleepy and it was not long until he fell asleep.

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The scout paused and looked back to his leader.

"It is too dark to see the tracks. Do we stop or continue on?" The somewhat scrawny orc swallowed nervously as yellow eyes glinted at him in the darkness.

"We will continue on."

The scout swallowed again, nervously shifting from foot to foot.

"I do not think that would be wise. I cannot see much in the d-" He never finished the sentence.

The orcish leader wiped his blade and kicked away the head that had bumped into his feet. There was a reason why nobody disagreed with him; at least nobody who wanted to keep their head anyway. Those who argued with him generally tended to make a habit of losing theirs.

"We push on," he barked and those under his control immediately went into action. His second in command sidled up to him nervously.

"How do you expect to follow the tracks?" he was asked. He grinned in response, a horrific grin that proved only more horrifying in the dark.

"We will not be following the tracks, rather the scent. And the wargs will be following it." He would not let his quarries slip through his fingers because he decided to stop for the night. He would drive his men to the brink of death if he had too. He paused, "And find me a new scout, one I won't have to kill after a few days. I tire of having to constantly promote weak-minded fools to higher ranks."

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**Please review. I am interested in what you think of it so far. Also where you might be thinking it will lead. Warning-some things may not be how they appear (I won't say what though, but keep an open mind on some things for now).**


	5. Contact

**The chapter title's not the best but I couldn't think of another one. Hope you are liking the story so far.**

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**Chapter 5: Contact**

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Kili swung himself down and out of the tree just as the sun reached the top of it, turning the leaves a golden colour for a single moment. The sight was beautiful to behold but the young dwarf who might have laid witness to the scene had other things on his mind, the foremost being to ensure he was not being followed.

Walking around the tree a few times to get his limbs moving again, he surveyed the area for any sign that someone or something was watching him, but he found none. This, however, did not put his nerves at ease and he hurriedly picked up the company's trail where he had left off, eager to get away from the invisible eyes he subconsciously felt upon him.

He was sure there was another presence around as the rustling started again and he resurveyed the area. It payed off and as he laid eyes upon a scraggly bush, a colourful bird burst forth from it and flew past him, and into the distance. He watched it go, a smile playing upon his lips and soon he was letting go of his raw nerves in peals of deep laughter. It soon died down though as the forest grew more daunting. He let out a small sigh.

Kili started to walk forward, bending low to the ground and stepping as lightly as he could. He was no elf, but he did have some experience with covering his tracks. Thorin was a relentless tracker when he wanted to be and it had taken ages for Kili to learn to 'disappear' into the forest from his uncle's rage at one thing or another he had pulled on the older dwarf. He had become quite successful at it, though he had no idea how it would hold up against a trained elf, if that was who was tracking him.

Picking up his pace, he glanced around warily, hoping that whatever it was that was watching him was harmless.

* * *

Tauriel watched as the dwarf began to speed up. She was impressed with the level of ability he was using to cover his trail and make it less obvious to see, but it was clear he was never properly trained; father maybe, or perhaps he was self-taught. Either way, she had no need to follow his tracks anymore; she follow him directly instead.

The ginger-haired elf was still in shock over her quarry's appearance. Not only was he beardless, but he was of a small build and height wise he was also different. For a dwarf he was tall, but he was also leaner than the others they had caught. That was not what had shocked her though; the dwarf she was following was far younger than she had expected. Shaking her head, she decided to move in.

The dwarf stopped for a moment, pausing to look around and ensure he was on the right track. Tauriel took that moment to creep down behind him, drawing one of her swords as she went.

"Turn around slowly," she said as she pressed the sword to the dwarf's back. He froze for a moment before compiling to her demand. Brown eyes glared at her with a ferocity she had not expected.

Tauriel inhaled, then exhaled. Where to take this now? She could tell that the dwarf was not going to come in easily.

"Don't give me an excuse to kill you," she said, having no intention of carry through with the threat if she needed to. Unfortunately the dwarf seemed to pick this up.

"I don't think you will," he said with a smirk.

"Are you willing to bet your life on it?"

The dwarf met her stare with a determined one. To hell with the stubbornness of dwarves.

"Are you?"

Tauriel lowered her weapon.

"I will injure you if I have to." Now that was not an empty threat. The dwarf raised his eyebrows.

"I am sure you will," he paused, "And may I ask why?"

"You will come with me as my prisoner," Tauriel said forcefully.

"And why would I do that?"

Tauriel raised her sword again.

"I can and will drag you there," she threatened. The dwarf held up his hands.

"What would make you think I was resisting?" It Tauriel's turn to raise her eyebrows in disbelief.

"You look like a jackrabbit, ready to bolt."

They stared at each other for a moment before Tauriel decided to see if she could get any answers out of him. She opened her mouth to speak.

"Were you travelling with a company of twelve other dwarves, one of them being Thorin Oakenshield?"

The dwarf's face did not betray him in the slightest, nor did his words he replied.

"You won't get anything out of me, no matter how you phrase the question." Tauriel did not doubt his words.

The dwarf had acquired a wary, almost suspicious look around him. She had blown any chance of getting information out of him, not that she had had much of a chance before.

They stood a few feet from each other, facing off. Tauriel breathed in deeply. She might as well bring him in, the only problem was whether he would submit easily.

* * *

Legolas paced back and forth nervously, entwining and untwining his fingers. It was only early on in the day and there was still plenty of time for Tauriel to bring in the rogue dwarf. He was worried though, worried that she was in trouble, or would be if she wasn't already. The images in the fire from last night still haunted him and he could not rid himself of the feeling that something was wrong.

The blonde elf looked up as his father came swooping into the room.

"I want you to interrogate the dwarves, to see if you can get anything out of them."

Legolas sighed and stood.

"What makes you think they'll talk to me if they didn't talk to you?"

"I don't." Thranduil's blunt statement did not surprise him. The elf before him was a better leader than a father and Legolas had gotten used to it a long time ago, a very long time.

"Alright, I'll see if they will say anything."

* * *

Bilbo woke and stretched, yawning as he did so. He scratched his head and stretched for a moment before standing up and looking around the room. Just as he had predicted, no one had come in during the night and found him.

He looked at the bed wondering whether to remake it. The neater side of him took over and he placed the blanket and pillow he had taken back on the bed. He pulled the ring out of his pocket and opened the door. Slipping out, he put the ring on. Time to get to work.

* * *

The wargs were eager to find their prey, but not as eager as the orc that overlooked the mission. He could almost taste the fear they would soon feel on his lips. He stroked the hilt of his favourite weapon, a weapon that could inflict a massive amount of pain in knowing hands, a weapon that would soon taste the flesh of his victims.

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**Please review. **


	6. Jeopardy

**Sorry it took longer than usual to update, but I am busy at the moment, so the following chapters will probably take just as long. I hope this makes up for it.**

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**Chapter 6: Jeopardy**

* * *

Kili walked along just in front of the elf. It was easier than tracking, he supposed.

The brown haired dwarf turned his head slightly so he could just see the slim form of the elf behind him. Her sword was drawn, but not pointing at him. Still, he was pretty sure she would outrun if he tried to get away which left a problem. Even if he was taken to the same place as the others, he had no idea of how to break free. He relaxed slightly at the thought of Bilbo Baggins. They still had him to help sort out this mess. For the twentieth time that day, Kili wondered why they hadn't just done what Gandalf asked and stayed.

Growing bored of staring at the trees and uncomfortable in the silence, Kili debated whether he should strike up a conversation with his captor again. He decided against it. He would rather be silent and bored than give information away due to a trick or a slyly asked question. Just because she was a female didn't mean she was to be trusted and it probably meant that she was all the more sneaky. Women tended to have mastered a technique to get information out of men no matter what the situation was.

* * *

The warg was salivating as it struggled against the force its master was using to hold it back. Beside it, its fellow creatures were likewise held in position, the scent tormenting them and driving them wild. One managed to leap forward but was instantly dragged back into place. Behind them, several small competitions to see who was smaller had started.

Their prey was close, so close the wargs could almost feel their teeth sinking into juicy flesh. Their nostrils flared as they continued to be held back.

* * *

Tauriel maintained a careful vigil on the dwarf in front of her, watching for any trickery. Dwarves were not to be underestimated and the fact that he was young made him even more dangerous. Who knew what wild, untamed thoughts were running through his mind?

She thought back to the other dwarves of the company, for she suspected that he was one of them. The only one that seemed able to compete age wise with the brown-haired dwarf in front of her was the blonde one. Even then, she wondered what ones so young were doing with a group of older dwarves, half of them hardened warriors. They couldn't just be finding a new place to locate to; there would be women and children with them otherwise.

Tauriel caught the sidelong glance that the dwarf shot her from in front and she bit her lip. She hoped he wouldn't do anything stupid; she was particularly opposed to intentionally causing harm to anyone if she could help it. That didn't mean she wasn't willing to do what was necessary to bring in the dwarf.

* * *

The orc smiled menacingly, finally sighting that which he sought after. The dwarf was nothing more than a scrawny shrimp to him, and the elf was female. This would be far easier than he had originally thought.

Signally for his troops to wait, he moved forward slightly. Even though it was killing him, he knew they had to wait for the opportune moment. Surprise was their best ally and he did not want his targets catching wind of him. Even though they were hilariously outmatched, they both carried bows and swords meaning that the attack was to not be taken lightly. He didn't care how many of those under his command died, but he preferred to keep that number as small as possible. If they had to fight elves, men and dwarves on the way back, they would be considerably incapacitated with a large part of their company missing.

* * *

Kili stopped short, tilting his head to the side and frowning. It was as if the forest had grown suddenly darker.

"Keep moving."

The young dwarf could tell by his captor's voice that she felt the same way.

Grabbing the hilt of his sword, Kili looked slowly to the right, then the left. The hair on the back of his neck stood up and his hand slipped unconsciously up to his bow, a weapon he was far more comfortable with and comforted by. He forced his feet to walk several more paces before stopping again, turning towards the elf who hadn't moved from her last position.

"Something's wrong," he whispered, slowly drawing his bow from its place on his back. The elf looked at him, second sword drawn and raised along with the first.

"I know," she replied, her voice barely audible as both she and Kili turned away from each other, backing up a few steps.

The two paused for a few seconds, frozen in their now defensive positions before hearing a chilling battle cry.

* * *

The warg leapt forward as its rider continued to shout, almost frothing at the mouth in anticipation. Below it were two startled figures, blood warm and pumping through their body. A feast, if not for now, for later. Sooner or later all prisoners became a meal. That was the beauty of things.

* * *

Tauriel cried out in alarm as a wave of mounted orcs swarmed towards them at a frightening speed. She let out a faint gasp as two arrows whipped past her ear, implanting themselves into a warg and its rider even as a third and fourth followed their path in quick succession.

The elfish captain shook herself free of the first initial fear that had hit her and lashed out with one sword, decapitating an orc with a deadly precision. Her second sword followed, plunging itself deep into the neck of the now riderless warg, bringing the creature to the ground. She finished the kill by burying one sword in its thick skull, before ducking as a breath of movement began behind her.

Swinging around, she brought up her weapons in a cross, blocking the enemy sword inches from her head. A burst of adrenaline surged through her body as the training kicked in. Drawing one sword from the defensive cross in front of her, she stabbed it through the orc's heart. Straightening up, she sighted the dwarf and began to carve her way towards him, somewhat surprised by the accuracy of the arrows that were flying from his fingers. She intended to get to her quarry, determined that he would not be allowed to die on her watch if only to keep her conscious clear and her hands clean, well, cleaner than they already were.

As she finally reached the battling dwarf, she was taken aback by the level of determination that shone in his eyes. Then again, she knew that she shouldn't underestimate him. He was a dwarf, a race which had admittedly produced some of the best fighters in Middle Earth. But whatever a dwarf achieved, an elf could no doubt top.

Baring her teeth in a feral grin, she allowed her back to brush up against the dwarf's.

* * *

Kili flinched, instinctively lashing out behind him, only stopping short just in time. It was the elf. He supposed they were on the same side, seeing as they now shared a common enemy.

The dwarfish archer knew he was on his last arrow, a fact he detested. His skill in using a sword was not as good as he would like, considering the odds they were facing. However, if he wanted to get out alive and hopefully help the elf accomplish the same thing, he would need to fight at close range to carve a pathway through the sea of orcs and wargs.

Letting lose his last arrow, he quickly shifted to his sword, blocking a blow from a spiked club as he did so. He figured this would be going much better if he had Fili or Dwalin at his side. They at least were accomplished fighters and both had the brawn needed to outlast a multitude of enemies at close range for any length of time. As it was, he could feel his limbs tiering steadily after he warded off attack after attack, the suddenly crushing pressure of the elf's full weight against him.

Just when he thought it couldn't get any worse the world went black.

* * *

Legolas looked up at the sun and cursed. Damn the rogue dwarf and Tauriel for going after the escapee. He was leading a party and finding his missing captain as of now and bringing her back, dwarf or no dwarf.

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**As always, please review. **


	7. Torment

**Sorry for the update, but between other things and coming up with an orcish sounding name for my character (don't ask how to pronounce it-I have no idea)...well, you get the idea. I hope this chapter is as interesting as the others. **

**Thanks to those who are following or have favourited this story. It is appreciated.**

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**Chapter 7: Torment**

* * *

Tauriel blinked in confusion, wondering why her arms were pinned beneath her. The last thing she remembered was that she had successfully caught the dwarf before they were ambushed by…

"I see our elf is awake, though I can't say the same for the dwarf."

Tauriel barely held back a shiver at the cruel voice and the equally cruel laughs that followed. She turned her head and found herself staring at a large orc, a very large orc. He stared at her though his good eye, his milky-white one unfocused on a sight just above her head, a large scar running through it. A thick, twisted leg prodded her roughly.

"Well, speak," the orc said, voice slightly amused and more than a little demanding.

Tauriel remained silent, frustrating her captor and making a sneer cross over his face. There was no way she was going to give the vile creature any satisfaction in whatever he attempted. Behind him she could see the prone figure of her former captive laying lengthways across a rocky ground, back turned to her and hands tied with a sturdy rope. A cluck of frustrated disappointment drew her back to the orc.

"I had wanted to avoid this situation," he sighed sadly. Tauriel could tell he was lying from the pleased gleam that shone in his black eye. She swallowed somewhat nervously but kept her lips sealed, hoping that whatever was coming was not as horrible as her imagination was leading her to believe.

Bilbo watched, curious at the scene that was unfolding below the window he now occupied. A group of elves had been marching their way to the front gate when the elf Legolas stepped into view, gesturing impatiently for them to hurry. He wondered what was up, thinking that if he did not have to find a way to get the dwarves out of this place he would follow to see where they were going. As it was, they had already disappeared through the gates.

Legolas was almost to the point where he would have been biting his nails if not for the fact it was a disgusting and demeaning habit. His mind was in a mode of panic though he had enough experience not to let it show on his face; he supposed that was one thing he could thank his cold, calculating father for.

He pulled his focus back to the task at hand. Tauriel could be in danger and he might not get to her in time because he had become distracted while trying to pick up her trail before following it. The blonde elf glanced up.

"Have you found anything?" he barked to the group that accompanied him. They all shook their heads solemnly.

"Nothing, my prince. We have yet to pick up her trail."

Legolas thought for a moment, thinking of what they could do to speed up things. An idea came to mind.

"Let's make our way back to where she split off to search for the rogue dwarf. We can follow her tracks from there." The elven prince may not have realised it, but his voice was coloured with more than a general concern for the missing elf's wellbeing.

* * *

Tauriel clenched her teeth together, refusing to give her captors any pleasure from her pain. The situation was better than she had previously feared, but not by much. The elfish captain glared as the half blind orc crouched in front of her.

"You still won't tell me what you were doing?" he said, digging the blade a little further into her flesh. So far all the wounds had been superficial, not enough to cause any permanent damage which was something she was grateful for. While she was not vain, she did not particularly want to go around mottled with scars for the rest of her life. However, she knew if she kept up her act, the manner in which she was being treated might very well change for the worse.

Her eyes flicked to the form of the dwarf again as the orc turned away, retrieving something from behind him. A small, drying pool of what she now recognised as blood had formed around the upper half of his torso leading her to wonder what had befallen him in the time she had been knocked out. Still, he was now beginning to stir slightly, a small drop relief in a vast pool of fear and apprehension. Her attention was forced back to the orc as he gripped her jaw in a hard hand.

"You recognise this?" From the way her eyes flashed with fear, he could tell that even if she didn't, she had some idea of its capabilities.

"What do you want?" she growled, unconvincedly trying to give off an intimidating aura. The orc through back his head and laughed.

"She speaks," he said gleefully before turning back to her, "Now, what is your name?" He ran the object in his and lightly down her face. Tauriel shuddered.

"Tell me yours first," she managed to get out. The orc chuckled and shook his head.

"That's not how it works," he said patronizingly, "But in any case, you may know me as Yazüak."

"Yaz…?" Tauriel began, stumbling over and probably mispronouncing the name. not sure if she had heard right. The harsh language and almost indecipherable accent of the orcs was hard to decipher. The orc roared as a slight sniggering began at Tauriel's attempts to say their leader's name causing the said leader behind him and he lashed out before pinning his captive to the wall by the throat.

"Yaz-ü-ak," he growled, "Got it?" Tauriel nodded, watching wide eyed with fear as the orc that had been closet to its leader fell to the ground, guts spilling out of the large incision in its belly. "No more fooling about," he continued in a menacing voice, "Now tell me your name."

"Tauriel," the elf said, no longer having the will to oppose the monster before her after the brutal and heartless display of his capabilities with the knife in his hand.

The highly polished, serrated blade looked as if it had been designed to inflict as much pain as possible without killing the intended victim. It was curved cruelly, glinting in a wicked fashion, giving off the air it had the ability to gut anything flawlessly, something which had already been demonstrated to her in a front row view. She knew the knife bore some sort of name, but it was one she didn't know. However, it was the knife that the elves had used way back when their interrogation methods were far more…harsher, way before her time or even the king's. It had been a darker time then, a much darker time.

"Tell me what you were doing tracking this dwarf."

Glancing at the figure on the ground, and then the knife, she closed her eyes and prepared for what would no doubt come.

* * *

Kili groggily woke to the scream of a young women. He blinked a few times, trying to place them and his somewhat blurry surroundings. He blinked again as his brain finally identified the images around him.

Durin's beard, orc's were persistent creatures. He just thanked Mahal that Azog the Defiler was not present, though after nearly killing his uncle, Kili had an urge to sink a blade through the bastard's heart.

Thinking of his uncle, another thought came to mind. Damn. They would all be wondering where he was, if they were not caught up in their own trouble that was. If Thorin learned he had been captured so easily by an elf and then orcs, he would most likely lose some of the respect as an adult his uncle had from him; he knew how much it had taken he and his brother to convince the stoic dwarf that he should be allowed to come on the quest even though he was still young. Fili would also be furious at him for being so reckless. The best he could do to rectify the situation was not to give away any information.

The elf!

Kili sat bolt upright as a third scream cut through the air. He quickly realised his hands were bound and that the orcs had their backs to him, obviously watching something far more interesting. He followed the line of one's gaze to where his former captor had sunken into a crumpled pile on the ground.

"Now tell me what you were doing," the frightful figure above her shouted, clearly in a roaring rage. As the colossal orc leaned lower towards his victim, he whispered something that the dwarf behind him could not pick up, but it was something that sent the elf into another fit of tears. As her tormentor raised a twisted knife, the elf directed pleading eyes towards him.

* * *

Yazüak halted the knife's descent and followed his victim's stare. He smiled at the dwarf.

"Maybe you might be more talkative," he said, grinning at his new toy menacingly. He could finish with the elf later for he had long heard of the stubbornness of dwarves and that they were particularly hard to break. Now he would put that statement to the

* * *

test.

Legolas stared at the mess of prints before him, as well as the mutilated bodies of wargs and orcs, not believing what he was seeing. Bending down, he swept up two broken swords, recognising the craftsmanship easily. They were his missing captain's. The bow she had been carrying laid next to his feet, none of the arrows apparently used. That was confusing as it was painfully clear an archer had taken out a fair number of those that now laid dead in the clearing. He absently wondered if it was the dwarf, for Tauriel's tracks had caught up with the being a short while back.

Taking a deep breath, Legolas stood, now even more determined to find the female elf than before.

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**Please review. The next chapter should be somewhat quicker. **


	8. Into the den

**Hope you like the chapter. I'll try and be quick with the next one.**

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**Chapter 8: Into the den**

* * *

Legolas was on edge. He had one missing elf and it was looking more and more likely that the orcs had captured her.

They had found the cave they were now crouched near a distance from where they had found the red-head's broken swords and smashed quiver. The ominous looking mouth yawned up at them, as if it was daring the elves to step a foot in its guarded entrance.

"How are we going to get in?"

Legolas looked at the brown-haired elf that had asked the question.

"I'm working on it."

The elf nodded and fell back into position, leaving Legolas to again scan the front of the cave. There were only several guards positioned, not very alert by the looks of things. His men were more than capable of taking them out silently and efficiently.

"Three of you stay here, the other three can come with me. If we don't come out, you know what to do." The others nodded, showing that they understood his orders. "Let's do this then.

* * *

Slowly the four elves made their way down the small ridge they had been perched on towards the opening of the cave. On Legolas' signal, two moved forward and behind the two guards, their hunting knives drawn and ready. Quickly they grabbed their quarries and drew their knives across their throats. Two down, however many more to go.

Quickly all four snuck into the now unguarded cave mouth and split up within a few feet of one another. They scanned the area, searching for the form of their female comrade. Legolas hoped she was here or else they would lose their only lead on her.

Stepping over the twisted body he nearly lost the contents of his stomach. Before him lay one of the cruellest knives in existence, at least from the ones that he knew of anyway. Blood stained the wickedly curved blade. A pool of blood on the floor next to it as well as up ahead slightly left Legolas shuddering to think of what may have occurred. He looked up and saw one of the other elves signalling him.

"I've found her, though she seems to be injured."

"Oh, nice observation. Do you think I would still be here if I wasn't? Pain can be quite crippling."

Legolas sighed, at least she was conscious. He made his way over to where the others were crowding. One look was all he needed for his mind to piece together what must have transpired.

"Tauriel, what happened to you?" Legolas asked in disbelief. Tauriel grimaced.

"You really don't want to know," she said, her voice giving no room for debate, but Legolas didn't argue. She paused, "There's also another prisoner here." The blonde elf in front of her looked surprised. Another?

"Who?" he asked.

"A dwarf, though he doesn't exactly look like one."

"Well we can't spend time searching for him," said a raven haired elf, "We are cutting it close already." Legolas nodded his head in agreement, gesturing to their surroundings.

"Silas is right. We do not have the time to search the rest of this camp for another prisoner without alerting them. Even without their guards they are bound to realise something is amiss. Can you walk?" he finished.

"What?" Tauriel exclaimed in disbelief, "You would leave someone in their clutches?" Legolas frowned at her.

"I asked if you could walk captain," he said, his tone growing substantially darker. Tauriel frowned right back at him.

"Don't honestly tell me you would abandon the other captive Legolas. You have no _idea_ what they would do to him!" By the sounds of it, she had a pretty good idea.

"You will address me as 'my prince' captain. Now answer my question."

"Yes, I can walk if I lean on someone," Tauriel snapped, "But I have no intention of leaving if you are willing to leave the dwarf here _my prince_."

Everything up to this point had been said in a whisper but Tauriel could not control her voice as it began to rise in anger. Legolas studied her for a moment before opening his mouth to speak.

"Take her," he said, gesturing to two of the elves that accompanied him.

Tauriel looked at the fair-haired elf with an outraged expression. She made to speak but the latter got there first.

"Silas, you're with me. We are going to try and locate this dwarf."

Understanding dawned on Tauriel's face and she allowed herself to be pulled up and supported by and elf on either side. Legolas nodded to the two elves under his command as well as a third that had appeared by his side. He and Silas then began to weave their way through the sleeping forms of the orcs, being careful to not so much as touch them least they should wake.

* * *

The prince of Mirkwood kept a watchful eye on the orcs that surrounded them. If they should wake…while he was looking forward to killing the bastards, he was most certainly aware they were seriously outnumbered.

From the amount of blood that he had seen, Legolas was painfully aware that now, resigning themselves to finding and getting this dwarf out, they would most likely have two injured casualties to escape with. And from what he had seen of Tauriel, he believed most of the blood would have had to come from this second captive.

He moved towards the furthest corner on the opposite the side they had found Tauriel. Her accusations still rung in his ears.

_You would leave someone in their clutches? Don't honestly tell me you would abandon the other captive…_

Honestly, he wouldn't have dreamed of it. However he had been hard pressed to make the decision to stay behind for a while longer. His main priority had been to get Tauriel out of here as soon as possible but the elfish captain had put a delay on his plans. He had forgotten how arguable the female warrior could be.

The blonde elf was so preoccupied with his thoughts he nearly missed a unusually small, still form. Legolas paused and his eyes skimmed over the slight figure again. Definitely not an orc.

Taking a step forward, he kneeled and almost recoiled as he closed his eyes. Opening them, he signalled for Silas to join him.

Legolas bent forward to check for any sign of life and almost started as the slight form began to stir. Acting quickly, he placed a hand over the dwarf's mouth to stop him from crying out. Brown eyes snapped open and regarded him with a cautious, almost fearful gaze.

"Look, I'm here to help you," Legolas rapidly in common tongue, hoping that the dwarf understood him. Thankfully it seemed like he did and the look in his eyes lost some of their edge.

"Alright, now keep quiet," he said. The dwarf nodded slightly showing he understood and Legolas slowly removed his hand. "Can you walk on your own?" He watched as the dwarf shook his head, "Lean on me then." He was going to try and carry him; dwarves were notorious for their pride and to injure that pride was to give them reason to hold a grudge against you for a long time, if not the rest of their life.

"Oh my…" he heard Silas gasp softly behind them, hopefully too softly for the dwarf's ears to pick up. A comment like that wouldn't help them with the dwarf if he heard and regained the stubbornness dwarves were famed for. Legolas gestured for him to help him stand the dwarf and together they carefully moved him so he was upright and leaning on Legolas.

The change in position allowed Legolas to get a better view of the dwarf's face and he inhaled sharply. The dwarf looked young, far younger than he had expected; he didn't have a beard yet and nor did it look like one had been recently shaved off, something he suspected the orcs wouldn't have hesitated in doing. The change in light had also allowed him to get a better grasp at what the orcs had done and he could only think of one way to describe it; it was horrifically brutal, making it seem like Tauriel had received the soft end of the deal.

"Come on, let's get out of here," he said as several orcs shifted in their sleep.

Slowly they made their way back towards the entrance, being sure as to not disturb any orcs on their way. The dwarf was somewhat unstable on his feet, probably due to the fact that he had lost a substantial amount of blood. He looked half dead and his alertness seemed to be decreasing rapidly as his injuries took their toll. Legolas feared he soon would be incapacitated by carrying the dwarf's unconscious body, pride or no pride.

The three of them burst out of the mouth of the cave just as the dwarf's eyes fluttered closed. Two of the elves that had stayed behind rushed to relieve their prince of his burden.

"Tauriel too has passed out," said Silas, motioning to where another elf was attending to the wounds the orcs had dealt the red-head. Legolas inhaled deeply.

"We need to get as far away from here as possible," he said, "Now. They will have to be carried and treated at a later point."

The elf near Tauriel bent to pick her up, slinging her across his shoulders. Another elf did the same to the dwarf. As they began to move out, one of the elves spoke.

"Who's the dwarf?" he asked. Legolas shrugged ever so slightly.

"I don't know. Didn't get the chance to ask," he said, watching as the elf carrying the brunette bobbed up and down in a light jog, "I believe he was travelling with the company of Thorin Oakenshield though. Maybe he will give us the answers we require." Even as he said this, he knew all too well that the dwarf would most likely refuse to cooperate. That was if he survived what the orcs had done to him. Looking after Tauriel, the same question came to mind.

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**Please review. **


	9. A Name

**Thanks for the reviews (again). Please keep them up so I can see how you are enjoying it. Enjoy.**

* * *

**Chapter 9: A Name**

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"Legolas, we need to treat them _now_."

The blonde elf looked back at his second command, and then at the two prone figures slung over the shoulders of two other elves. He stopped himself from wincing.

"Alright, we will stop here, but not for long. Anything that can wait, ignore it for now." They had to keep moving for the blonde prince feared that the orcs had long since woken and were now on their trail. He had no intention of being caught or killed by the foul creatures nor any intent to let Tauriel fall back into their clutches. Tauriel…

He was just about ready to jump off a cliff.

He had failed to protect her from the horrors that now lurked in Mirkwood, failed to protect her from the orcs, and most importantly had failed to protect her from harm. It didn't matter now though, he would have plenty of time to beat himself up later. He needed to focus so he didn't fail once again.

As the elves around him began to set to work on their injured burdens, Legolas and Silas glanced warily around the small space they occupied.

"Keep your eyes sharp," he said in warning. His second in command looked up.

"Do you think they're tracking us?" he asked. Legolas' smile was grim.

"I don't think, I know."

Somewhere, off in the distance, came the angry roar of one who had been denied his prize.

* * *

Tauriel blinked awake and immediately started struggling against the hands that held her cautiously down. All she could think of was getting away from the foul beast in front of her. The elfish captain lashed out with one foot and caught her captor unawares, knocking him back with a powerful blow to the jaw. She leapt up with great difficulty, leaning against the tree as she did so in order to protect her undefended back. That was when it hit her.

Slowly Tauriel looked down at the elf who was now struggling to his feet, rubbing his rapidly darkening jaw. She smiled sheepishly.

"Sorry about that," she said, allowing two more elves to help her back into a sitting position. Legolas gave her a wan smile.

"At least I was somewhat prepared for something along the lines of it," he said, wincing as the movement caused pain to flare up along the place that had just been thoroughly walloped, "How are you feeling?"

"Better at being out of that place," said the ginger-haired elf, still sheepish from the fact she had kicked him, "Though still like I drank too much at a festival and then danced too hard." She paused, "I see you got the dwarf." The captain watched as Legolas glanced at the still unconscious figure that was being tended to by a brown-haired elf.

"I assume the bow we rescued with you belongs to him."

"Shoots like an elf, that one," she replied, a ghost of a smile stretched across her face, "Not too bad with a sword either. Believe me, I would be dead if it was otherwise." It was no small task to quell the admiration that was building up inside of her. He was a _dwarf_.

Tauriel allowed herself to be attended to by the somewhat wary elves that were part of Legolas' group. Added to the initial four elves she had seen temporarily in the cave (including the prince of Mirkwood), there were an additional three, meaning that all up, there were eight elves (including herself, who was injured) and one injured dwarf. Not good odds against a whole swarm of orcs, but the elfish captain had no doubt Legolas could and would hold them off at least until they got back to the fortress. She would be unable to help though, because, despite the neutral sort of face she was putting on, she hurt like hell. So it was no surprise for any of them when she once again slipped away from the world.

* * *

Legolas watched the dwarf with interest. The dwarf watched him back with dark, angry eyes. Clearly he wasn't saying anything.

The others had finished tending to the…captive he supposed. It was not like they were going to let the dwarf up and walk away once he had healed, so there was no point in kidding himself now. Still, Legolas wasn't going to push him for answers now; it was not the time and place, and frankly it seemed unfair to extract information from the dwarf in his state. _His state being stubborn and mule-headed_, thought Legolas.

Silas and the rest of the other five elves he had brought with him were now preparing to move again. The elven prince had no idea how they would move the dwarf for he was almost certain their captive would not allow them to carry him any longer; it had taken a lot of convincing for the previously half delirious dwarf to allow them anywhere near him once he had woken.

Silas and another fresh faced elf moved in to take the dwarf up but was almost immediately shooed away by Legolas' meaning look and the dwarf's almost murderous glance. The blonde elf sighed, deciding that in order for this to work he would have to try and establish a communication with the dwarf.

"Do you speak the common tongue?" he asked slowly. The brunette in front of him raised an eyebrow, but gave no other reaction to his words. Sometimes the elf wished dwarves were not so good at keeping their faces blank, it would make his job a whole lot easier.

The elven prince was contemplating whether knocking out the dwarf would solve their predicament when the dwarf spoke.

"What do you want?" The words were in no sense kind, but they rang with an undertone of pain. Legolas smiled pleasantly as he had been trained to do in his youth.

"I want you to come with us, master dwarf," he said as politely as he could. The dwarf frowned however, and Legolas could tell that this would not be going the way he wanted it to. _Damn dwarves_, he thought, annoyed, _why can't they ever just do what we need them to do for once?_

* * *

Kili watched warily as the blonde elf in front of him stared, his new captor still smiling even though they were now at a stalemate. He resisted the urge to wince as he crossed his arms in front of him. He needed to remain focused or else the elf would catch him off guard, and the young dwarf had no intention of giving him any leeway.

"Master dwarf, if you do not return with us you will die from your wounds." The elf's statement proved ineffective. Kili knew very well the significance of his injuries, but he also knew how to treat some of them. In any case, he wasn't swayed by the words.

"How can I trust that I won't die of them anyway under your care?" he shot back. He could tell the elf was starting to lose his patience.

"You have my word we will do our best to ensure your wellbeing." Kili didn't quite believe that either.

"Your word?" he said, rapidly gathering his thoughts in order to think of a way out of this mess, "What good is your word if it is only between me and you?"

"I'll swear it in front of the others then." Kili snorted disbelieving at this.

"They're elves too, and under your command. They'll do whatever you tell them to do which renders your word meaningless."

* * *

Legolas resisted the urge to punch something. They were at a stalemate again. He had to admit though, the dwarf was good.

The prince racked his brains as he rubbed his eyes, tired from staying up all night, and desperately trying to think of something he could say to convince the youth; that had been his last resort. An idea slowly came to him and he glanced at the dwarf sideways, albeit somewhat slyly. The dwarf glared right back at him.

"If you stay on your own, how will you defend yourself against the party of orcs we so gallantly rescued you from?" This elicited a strong curse, and though it was in dwarfish, Legolas got the gist of what it meant. "You are injured," he continued, seeing a window, "And we have your weapons. Even if you do manage to evade them at first, they will catch up to you." The dwarf growled.

"You sound just like my-" he cut of abruptly, seeming almost furious with himself. Legolas' smile widened.

"Like who?" he asked, "Your father? Mother perhaps? Or an older brother?" The dwarf glared at him, lips tight and gaze stormy as he refused to respond. However, he let out an almost inaudible whimper as he shifted against the tree that propped him up. The elf was suddenly reminded of just how young he was. "Look, we are trying to help you yet you keep blocking us at every turn. We mean you no harm, I swear on my life, just let us help you." If anything, the dwarf was suddenly more furious at the display.

"Why should I?" They were back at the start again. Legolas sighed.

"Look, at least tell me your name if you won't accept my word. It's the least you can do to repay us for saving you." The prince was almost convinced the dwarf would not answer until he opened his mouth to speak.

"I do not need to repay you," he said darkly, "For I wouldn't have been in that situation if not for you." He stopped speaking and Legolas was ready to admit defeat. "However," continued the dwarf much to the elf's surprise, "I will tell you my name. It is…Kili."

"Kili what?" asked Legolas, "Son of whom?" The dwarf smiled darkly.

"That information I will not tell you."

"My prince, we need to get moving." Legolas looked up as Silas spoke.

"Alright then, help me with the dwarf." They would drag him to the fortress if they had to.

The two elves turned back to Kili and found that he had slumped limply against the tree, unaware of anything around him. Silas bent down and slung the unconscious form over his shoulders with the help of his prince. Despite the mild annoyance that was building up inside of him, Legolas smiled. At least he knew the dwarf's name.

* * *

Bilbo watched from a window near the gates, curious. The group of elves he had seen leave before were returning, carrying two dark shapes from the look of it, one of them another elf and possibly a sack of something else. In any case, the second shadowy figure was too small for him to work out.

Turning back to the task at hand, the hobbit inspected the room one final time before making his way down to the cellars. He had overheard talk of one of them opening up to a fast flowing river that ran from here to the closest city of men. He may have just a ticket out.

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**Please review. **


	10. Thranduil

**Here you go. Bilbo's bits will be longer next chapter. I might also include some more of the company (I will see how it goes).**

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**Chapter 10: Thranduil**

* * *

Between murderous orcs and sincere elves, Kili felt like his life had turned upside down. The whitewash of agony that was constantly drowning him was no help either, nor the fact he had saved his former captor, an elf, back in the cave from the torment the bastard orc had been putting her through. She was female though, so he guessed that accounted for something.

_"Even less talkative than the elf. Who would have thought an elf would be more sporting?"_

_The sneer sent shivers down the brunette's spine. He watched as the giant orc made his way back over to the female, praying to Durin for a miracle in the form of his uncle or even the hobbit. However, it would seem his luck had run out._

_"Let's see what else the elf has to say," he heard his tormentor continue. Kili could only watch in horror as the knife began its lethal descent. The elf's eyes begged him to do something, anything to stop the pain the knife would inflict. With his hands tied though, and not wanting to experience the agony again, he could do nothing._

Kili jolted awake and was somewhat surprised to find himself laying on a soft bed, a very soft bed, covered by almost blindingly white sheets. _What in the name…?_

He sat up, disorientated and found that his chest was restricted by the stark white bandages that had somehow appeared around it. He looked up, heart racing, as an elf dressed in a long robe and holding a bowlful of what looked like bitter tasting sludge entered.

* * *

Tauriel sat on the edge of her bed, lost in thought about the traumatic events she had experienced.

_Screaming, she writhed in pain, desperately trying not to give in and give anything else away. Legolas should have rescued her by now, yet here she was, at the complete mercy of a monster. It was through the red hot haze that she heard his words._

_"Hey, bastard, why don't you pick on someone your own size?" Not the best line, but it had worked never the less. Yazüak turned his attention to the dwarf._

_"What was that?" she heard him snarl. The orcs around him chittered in anticipation._

_"You heard me, you bastard." She had to admire the way the dwarf's voice did not waver once though it must have been hell inside his brain. If she was being stared at the way the orcish leader was staring at him right now, she would have disappeared into the ground in fear. As it was, her tormenter had all but forgotten her._

The elfish captain snapped back to herself and began to chew her nails, trying to hold back the terror that was coursing through her body. It was over, she was safe. A shadow descended next to her. Turning, she found herself face to face with her king.

"Tell me what happened," he said in a voice that, while offering some sort of concern on the surface, had a searching undertone. Needless to say, Tauriel spilled her guts, though there were a few certain things she kept to herself.

* * *

The elven king of Mirkwood swept into the room with a grace that one might only see in an elf. He glanced across at the bed that was positioned opposite him and found a pair of dark brown eyes staring back at him. He smiled, the eyes did not.

"Greetings young dwarf," he began in common tongue. This elicited no response from the dwarf.

Thranduil kept up his non-threatening manner and took a slow pace forward so as not to appear menacing or intimidating; that approach would get him nowhere. The dwarf's eyes widened slightly however and he shrunk back from the elf. Thranduil held back a sigh.

"I will not hurt you; you are safe," he began again. But this elected no response from the dwarf either. If anything, he burrowed slightly deeper into the covers which lay over him. Thranduil tried again for a third time. "Were you travelling with the company of Thorin Oakenshield?"

When he got no response other than that of uneasiness he closed his eyes and sighed. It could be that the dwarf, Kili his son had informed him, did not speak anything other than Khuzdul but he highly doubted that. How else could his son have communicated with the said dwarf before, for Legolas did not, to Thranduil's knowledge, speak dwarfish. If he was wrong and that was not the case, he was going to be in for a hard time unless he got one of the other dwarves to translate. Not likely given that he did not fully trust them to translate everything as they heard it without editing a one or more phrases.

"Kili," he said slowly as he crouched next to the dwarf's head. A flash of recognition past through the brunette's eyes as he heard his own name. Thranduil smiled again. A breakthrough, albeit a small one. "Kili," he said again a bit more forcefully though still slow enough to ensure the dwarf could understand him, "I am Thranduil, king of Mirkwood."

"Where am I?" The almost demanding question coupled with its defensive tone made Thranduil sit back on his heels. So the dwarf could understand him after all. Not surprising, everything considered.

"You are currently in a spare chamber that we placed you in while you healed," he said soothingly in an attempt to lessen the tension he saw building up in the dwarf's muscles. It did not work.

"Why?" Another direct question in what might have been a more defensive tone than the last.

"We are not monsters nor any other beastlike creature without a consciousness," Thranduil replied, "And we saw it as our duty to help aid your recovery as best as our abilities allowed it." The almost flowery language lost all effect on the being it was directed at. "Besides, one of my most capable elves gave you his word that we would look after you and I do not intend for him or anyone else to go back on his word." The dwarf seemed to ponder this for a moment.

"You want information don't you?"

"Yes," said Thranduil truthfully. The dwarf's expression didn't change.

"I won't tell you anything and you can't force it from me, so you might as well give up trying." Thranduil was not put off by this. He had foreseen that it would go this way and had a plan that might just work.

"Very well then," he said, keeping a perfect poker face, "Once the healers say you are well enough, I will have you moved to the dungeons." The dwarf didn't blink and the elven king of Mirkwood smiled on the inside. He was certain womanly wiles would work, especially womanly wiles that had something to be grateful for.

* * *

Kili watched the elven king leave and somehow got at least partially the rage his uncle felt towards elves, though he was somewhat surprised his blonde rescuer had kept his word. The elf who had just departed the room seemed to be holding back some knowledge that he knew, calculating and planning something behind his eyes. It put Kili on edge and he just hoped that the rest of the company was here, along with Bilbo Baggins.

* * *

Legolas paced back and forth in his chambers, wanting to see Tauriel, but not wanting to at the same time. He was anxious for news even though he had been told multiple times that she was fine, though still mentally recovering. The prince of Mirkwood was worried that his father was scheming something and that that something would include the female captain. What could he say though? Thranduil was his father, though barely that, and first and foremost, he was his king.

* * *

Bilbo, for his part, was contemplating peeking into one of the two rooms from which elfish healers were constantly moving back and forth between. Making up his mind that just one peek wouldn't hurt, he went for the nearest one, checking that his ring was firmly on his finger.

Peering around the legs of a rather tall elf in the doorway, he glanced in. On the bed stationed in the far end of the room sat the red-haired elf from the day they had been captured. Bilbo wondered what had happened to her for she looked terrible, as if she had been hit over the head with a hammer and then used to sharpen knives.

The elf he was standing behind began to move forward and the female looked up. He dashed from behind the legs and into the room, ducking behind a stand, forgetting for and instant he could not be seen. Good thing he had quite feet.

Bilbo watched as the Legolas the elf moved gracefully in front of the elf on the bed.

"How are you?" the blonde elf asked. The red-head bowed her head.

"Mending," she answered, speaking almost too low for Bilbo to hear. Curious, he moved closer.

"And what of-" he was cut off.

"I'm fine," the female snapped before lowering her head again, "Forgive me." The blonde elf smiled.

"There is nothing to forgive, I spoke out of turn." They were silent for a few moments.

"I'm glad you got him out."

"Why?" Legolas asked in genuine confusion, while Bilbo wondered who 'he' was. The elf in front of him fidgeted with the hem of the shirt she was dressed in.

"Because…" The female's voice grew softer and the hobbit dared not move any closer for fear they would hear him. Instead he backed out slowly, reminding himself that he had a job to do.

* * *

Yazüak growled. He had been in a foul mood ever since waking and finding that the guards he had stationed throats slit, and his prisoners gone. He fingered the spectacular bruise around his eye that the dwarf scum had managed to land on him. Next time the brunette was caught, he would also be personally binding together his legs as tight as he could.

It had been days since the escape and now he was beginning to lose it. His men stepped around him practically on tippy toe so not as to incur his wrath on them. The tow would rue the day they had though they could best him, as would anyone who had helped.

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**Please review. **


	11. Burglar Hobbit

**Sorry for the late update but I haven't had the time to write. I hope you will enjoy the chapter below though, I tried to make it a bit longer than usual for you. Heads up, the dwarves escape next chapter. **

**If you have already read this chapter and seen a new update, sorry but it is only me editing one or two things I didn't realise when I published. I am working on the next chapter though, and hopefully it will be up soon.**

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**Chapter 11: Burglar Hobbit**

* * *

Bilbo rushed along the darkening passageway, keeping a watchful eye out for any elf that he might come across. Soon he could hear the distant roaring of a raging river, and the sound of water slapping rocky walls hard. He could almost taste the spray upon his lips. He could have cheered with relief; he had gotten lost at least six times in trying to find this specific cellar.

The loud clanging of the door behind him jolted the hobbit from his daydream. Bilbo turned to see if there was anyone behind him, but it appeared to have been a gush of wind. Things were certainly looking up. After discreetly wedging the door open so he could retreat at a moment's notice of he had to, the company burglar descended down the last of the steps and found himself suddenly shivering in the wind.

It was a deep cellar that led out to the river that had been mentioned in several overheard conversations. Bilbo could see the relatively calm water lapping at the edge of the floor, but a strong undercurrent flowing beneath its surface. This would not be the first time harmless looks could be deceiving. A problem presented itself to him as he dwelled on this fact; how was he going to get the dwarves away inconspicuously by means of the river without them or himself drowning?

He looked around for something that could provide some sort of raft for them all to escape in; one that would be sturdy enough to hold twelve dwarves, including Bombur. His eyes alighted on a pile of barrels filled with various items, one such object being apples. They were certainly round enough, and there were thirteen barrels in all, one for each of them including himself. He had also noticed there were no guards on duty in the cellar, meaning that it would make for an easy getaway even with the rather loud complaining of several of the dwarves. Now it was time to spread the word.

Kili stared at the bars in front of him, wondering about the elves and wondering why they had been so kind. His wounds were well on their way to healing (leading Kili to wonder what the graceful beings used in their medicines ̶ they had also given him enough pain numbing mixtures to make an even Beorn kneel over in a daze; as it was, the dwarf was having a hard time processing things), though he was in the dungeons, he was given enough food and his bandages were changed at regular intervals. So long as he didn't jump around or move about too fast, he was fine, though he still did feel a constant ache from where his chest and shoulders had been slashed by the knife, and nightmares of the repulsive orc still haunted him.

He numbly wondered if the rest of the company were here in the dungeons, somewhere nearby or somewhere far away. The potion given to him by one of the elves continued to dull his senses and it was not long before he was sleeping against the wall, too tired to hold his eyelids up.

Bilbo made the lengthy journey back to the dungeons, a walk through various tunnels, halls and corridors that was considerably short once it was put into the perspective of someone much taller than a hobbit.

Turning left at one set of wide swinging doors and right at another, the company's hobbit soon found himself outside of the dungeons where two elves still stood guard. He made sure the golden ring he had found in the deep caverns running under Goblin Town still firmly encompassed his finger. He made sure Sting was at his side in case he had need of it, though he prayed he would not; he had seen how the elves fought and against even one would turn him into a laughing stock. Everything in place, Bilbo then slipped past the two guards, silent and invisible.

* * *

Tauriel was breathing hard as the king of Mirkwood swept into her chamber for the second time. She had been stretching, trying to exceed he bodies current limits to what they had been before. The captain stood to attention as Thranduil cast one eye over her.

"If you are up to it, and it would seem you are, I have a task for you to carry out," he said in a drawl. Tauriel's face stayed blank, though she wondered how Legolas could have lived with this cool and almost entirely unsympathetic elf for a father and a single parent. Though, to Thranduil's credit, he did seem to harbour some concern for his youngest son even though the younger elf was only third in line after his two older brothers, both of whom shared the same day of birth with each other, and were currently attending business at Elrond.

"What is the task my king?" she said graciously, hoping it involved little or no vigorous activity, not that she would admit she hurt too much to wield even one sword with her usual skill. Thranduil regarded her with one eye as he lazily picked the dirt from under one nail.

"You are to talk to the thirteenth dwarf, find out if he knows anything about the orcs or Thorin Oakenshield's company and what they are aiming to do," he said, as if she had already accepted his offer, "You are then to report directly to me with any knowledge he gives you." The tall, regal elf made for the doorway, pausing for a moment beneath the wooden frame. "It may help you to know that his name is Kili." With that, the king was gone, leaving Tauriel reeling with a bombardment of thoughts. While the task didn't particularly appeal to her, she knew it was her duty to carry out her king's wishes. Only she wished that the dwarf she would have to trick wasn't the same one who had saved her life.

* * *

Bilbo, after what had seemed like hours of searching, had finally found one of the company, and his luck seemed to be looking up, for it was none other than Thorin Oakenshield, the company leader. Perfect.

"Thorin," he whisper-shouted towards the back of the cell. There was the sound of someone jumping and a muffled curse as the exiled dwarf king turned to face him.

"Durin's beard Bilbo," he growled, "Don't sneak up on people like that." He paused for a minute, realising he could not see the hobbit. "Where are you?" It was then Bilbo remembered to take off the ring. "What the…?" Bilbo smiled sheepishly.

"I found this when we were caught up in Goblin Town," he said almost guiltily, "The rest of the company knows I have it." Thorin growled again.

"Figures that I'm the last to find out," he said despondently, and it was true. The stoic dwarf always seemed to wake just that little bit later or happened to miss all the half hidden smirks shot at him while he led the way with a pretty bunch of dainty pink flowers woven skilfully into his dark braids, yet somehow he was always the first to catch up to his two unruly nephews, powered by an embarrassed anger, though most of the time they managed to somehow evade him.

It was hilarious really, watching the two youngest of the company seek refuge behind one dwarf or another who, in providing sanctuary, unwittingly subjected themselves to their leader's rage as well. Privately Bilbo thought it was partly an act on Thorin's part, for he seemed to gain a gleam of mischief in his own eyes every time he chased the troublesome duo.

'Well, what do I owe the pleasure?" the exiled king grunted, clearly not in a good mood, "And why, may I ask, have you not yet found a way out of this confounded place." If not for the bars between them, Bilbo probably would have hit the dark-haired dwarf over the head, as it was, he gave him a pained smile.

"That's what I'm here for. I've found a way out of this place, now all I need to do is find a way you break you all out." He explained about the river and the barrels and was taken aback when Thorin actually smiled at him.

"That is good news, I doubt any of us could have stood a moment longer trapped in this foul hole," he paused before continuing, his face growing strangely concerned, 'You haven't seen Kili have you? For I fear he was not with us when we were caught nor have I seen him since." Bilbo stood for a moment, mentally berating himself. With all his searching and excitement he had forgotten about the young dwarf.

"I will keep an eye out for him," he said, thoughts racing madly as he was faced with a new problem, "He can look after himself though." Thorin did not relax.

"I can only pray. Now go tell the others the plan, and find a way out. And if you find Kili, I want to hear straight away."

His new orders received well enough, Bilbo set off to find the rest of the company, youngest included.

* * *

"Kili, is it?"

The brunette stared up at her, a frown creased between his brow. This was going just great. Tauriel withheld a sighed.

"Well, this conversation is rather one-sided." There was no glint of amusement in the dwarf's eyes, not that she had suspected there to be, it was a bad attempt at a joke. As she wallowed for something else conversational to say, Kili saved her for a second time.

"Why are you here?" he asked, hostile, yet curious at the same time. Tauriel smiled at him.

"Well, I fled down here while escaping several elves who want to ask for my hand in marriage and while waiting down here, I got lonely and wandered around and ran into you." It wasn't a total lie, she told herself, it just wasn't at all that truthful.

"I can see where talking to a dwarf would appeal to you," said the youth sarcastically. Tauriel took it in good stride.

"Well it was either you or Legolas, and to be frank, I think he views me a woman more than a warrior." The dwarf looked at her in confusion.

"Who?"

"The blonde elf that rescued you," she explained, realising that he didn't know Legolas by name, "The one with the bruise on his jaw." She looked down at her feet somewhat sheepishly, glad that the prisoner didn't know how it had gotten there. "I suppose I'm also here for another reason," she said, looking up. The frown returned.

"What reason?"

Tauriel knelt close to the bars and motioned for him to come closer as well. He shuffled forward a few paces and then stopped, wary and yet curious at the same time. The elfish captain pressed her face to a gap in the bars, hand encircling two. She smiled shyly at him, almost embarrassed to admit what she was going to say.

"To thank you, for what happened back in the cave with the orcs. You didn't have to do it." The dwarf smiled at her as she said this, a genuine smile.

"Well, you could say that nobility has not completely died out amongst our people," he said in a relatively cheerful voice, "But the truth of the matter probably is that in order to prove myself better than you, I had to take the worst of it." The elfish captain could tell he was kidding by the twinkle in his eyes, but the first part sounded plausible.

"In any case, I still would like to thank you," Tauriel told him as she rummaged in one of her pockets, "And I hope this will be a reminder of what I owe you." She presented him a small trinket. Kili raised his eyebrows in surprise.

"A wooden bead?" he asked in disbelief. Tauriel's cheeks turned a deep crimson making her glad for the poor lighting in the dungeons.

"It has a pattern carved on it; you probably can't see because of the light. And it's not just a bead, you can use it for your braids." The dwarf laughed a short bark and she realised her mistake.

"Do you see me wearing any braids in my hair?" he asked, still chortling. Tauriel blushed an even deeper red.

"Sorry, I-"

"No, it's fine," he said, cutting her off, distressed from upsetting her, "I can use it for something else." He thought hard. "Do you have a length of cord on you by any chance?" Tauriel nodded, confused, but pleased he had accepted her gift. "Good. Then string the bead onto it and give it to me." She done so, realising what he intended to do.

"Well, I guess that's one way to wear it," she said as he slipped the cord supporting the bead around his neck. He smiled again as he tucked the bead under his tunic.

"It's heavier than it looks," he murmured.

"That's because it's solid wood," she smiled back.

They sat there for a while in a comfortable silence when Kili started chortling to himself. Tauriel looked at the dwarf in confusion.

"What's so funny?" she asked him. The brunette looked up at her.

"Oh, it's just that my uncle will probably have a fit when he finds out I've been given a gift from the same elf that caught him; that is if he hasn't blown his head off at being imprisoned by them for so long."

Tauriel was surprised at this information, but she did not let it show. She had a vague idea of who the dwarf was referring to, and knowing for a fact that the exiled dwarfish king didn't have any children of his own, it suddenly dawned on her she was in the presence of a prince, one who had saved her life.

"Oh," she said, keeping her face and voice devoid of any real emotion, "Why does he hate elves so much?" Kili looked at his feet, suddenly a bit embarrassed.

"Something they did to him a while back, or rather, something they didn't do, though now that I think about it, there was not much they could have done." Again Tauriel had an inkling of what he was referring to. It was a well-known fact that Thranduil had refused to help the dwarves after the fall of Erebor for fear of the safety of his own men.

"Is there any chance he will forgive the elves that did, or didn't do whatever it was to him?" Kili laughed a hollow laugh and shook his head at this.

"Not in this lifetime, not even when he reclaims what was stolen from him at that time. And probably not for a hundred lifetimes to come, though by some sort of miracle he could decide to change his mind on that matter."

Tauriel stood as he finished, realising she had been down here for a long while and hearing the footsteps of another being, most likely an elf from how lightly they were brushing the ground.

"I must go, or else the elves I was running from may catch up to me. It was nice talking to you though." She meant this genuinely and she could not stop the guilt that was beginning to rise in her as she remembered what she would have to tell her own king. The elfish captain made to walk off, but stopped as the young dwarf's voice sounded behind her causing her to turn around.

"Loyalty is something dwarves do not give lightly, and even more so since the fall of Erebor," Kili's dark eyes bored into her, as if he knew her thoughts, "What I told you, I told you out of loyalty, loyalty I gave you back in the cave. Do not betray this trust or you will wish you had been left behind with the orcs." Tauriel knew the dwarf was not kidding; his face was stony and set. She withheld a shiver as she looked into the eyes of the nephew of Thorin Oakenshield and saw years there that did not belong in such a youthful being.

Tauriel stood there for a moment, before mentally shaking herself and walking away from the dwarf. As soon as she was out of sight, she picked up the pace and almost ran into Thranduil as he walked graciously past.

"Ah, Tauriel," he said pleasantly, "And what news do you have for me?" Tauriel took a few deep breaths as the king of Mirkwood stared at her.

_Loyalty is something dwarves do not give lightly…_

"They're heading to Erebor, presumably to reclaim it," she said, closing her eyes.

"I suspected as much," said Thranduil, still staring at her, "Anything else that might be of use."

_Tauriel could only watch, horrified as Yazüak mercilessly tortured the dwarf, rage and brutality growing each time the dwarf refused to scream or answer his questions. At one point, the brunette caught her eyes, and she swore she saw the ghost of a smile cross his young face, a sad, encouraging smile as he continued to be tortured instead of her._

"The thirteenth dwarf said he was the nephew of one of the leader of the company, so I am assuming he meant Thorin Oakenshield." She opened her eyes just in time to see the blonde king smile.

"That _is_ news," he said, eyes lighting up, "Now if you'll excuse me, I have business to attend to." He paused, "Oh, and might I add job well done."

Watching the elf disappear along the corridor and finding herself suddenly alone, she allowed the moisture gathering behind her eyes to fall.

_Do not betray this trust._

What had she done?

* * *

Bilbo padded into the cellblock where he had sworn he heard voices talking, though it may have just been his imagination. What he saw had him almost jumping up and down in joy. He quickly slid the ring off his finger.

"Still using that invisible piece of jewellery are you?" Kili asked. Bilbo smiled sheepishly.

"Well, I would prefer not to be caught by the elves or else I would never get you all out of here."

"Do you have a plan then?" Kili seemed to perk up. Bilbo tapped his nose knowingly.

"All in good time, lad. Now then, where have you been?" The young dwarf seemed to hesitate before answering and in that moment the hobbit's mind registered the fact that his chest looked slightly bulkier beneath the brunette's tunic, though he thought nothing of it.

"I was tracking the company, but got caught by the red-haired elf. Stupid mistake really; wasn't paying attention to my surroundings. Ended up here." The account sounded true enough. "Now how were you thinking of getting us out of here?" he asked. Bilbo smiled again.

* * *

Kili sat back after hearing the company burglar's idea of how to smuggle all thirteen dwarves out from under the elves' noses. It was mad but it might just work, not that he had room to talk. Half the time the plans he came up with were just as mad.

"Well, I'd say you have got your work cut out if you want to break out tomorrow," he said, "So I'll leave you to it." He watched as the hobbit darted off, fingering his newly acquired bead and wincing as pain flared up his side again.

* * *

Thorin turned around at the sound of Bilbo calling his name. He frowned.

"Aren't you supposed to be working on getting us out of here?" he asked curtly. Bilbo nodded.

"Yes but I thought I had better tell you something else I found first."

"Well, spit it out then," said Thorin, still frowning. The hobbit smiled back at him.

"Kili is here, locked up like you, but he seemed unharmed. I think he was glad to see me," Bilbo told the exiled king. Thorin sighed in relief, feeling a great weight slip off his shoulders.

"Well then, get back to work. I want to be rid of this place by tomorrow noon."

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**Please review (they are much appreciated and allow me to see what you are enjoying of this). **


	12. Barrels

**Hope you like this chapter. I have a feeling the next one will another long chapter (it may not be though, so don't raise your hopes). It will probably take me a while to update again.**

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**Chapter 12: Barrels**

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The elf walked past unsuspecting, never noticing the slight hand that darted quickly in and out of his pocket, the small being it belonged to invisible to the naked eye. It was not until well after the incident that he checked for the object that had been placed in his pocket at all. No one was around to see his small smile when he found the object had 'mysteriously' disappeared.

* * *

Bilbo danced a little jig as he celebrated his success in pilfering a flaxen-haired guard of his keys. Even though he was invisible and not noticeable when he wasn't so, the hobbit had not been entirely sure it would work, but it had and that was all that mattered. Really, in regards to how the elves had openly displayed their 'perfectly' honed abilities for all to see, you would think they would notice one tiny hand creeping into their pocket, thought Bilbo, shaking his head, Apparently not. He did wonder if he had met the elf before though, and for a few seconds his mind was blank before he realised that a similar guard had been outside the dungeon doors earlier that day. It was a small world indeed.

Strutting about in absolute confidence, Bilbo made his way back to the dungeons, wondering who he should let out first once he had made sure the cost was clear. The plan was simple really; the dwarves would prop the blankets in their cells in one corner in a shape that faintly represented a sleeping dwarf before leaving through the cell door which Bilbo would then relock.

They were all under strict instructions to remain quite as the rest of the company was released and they followed their burglar down to the cellar with the barrels. Fool proof, and if one of the dwarves did so much as utter a peep, Thorin would personally shut their mouths for them. Now who to let out first? It was a rhetorical question really.

"Are you all set?" whispered Bilbo loudly so that Thorin could hear him. He had also made sure to walk up louder than usual, allowing his clothes to rustle so the exiled king couldn't accuse him of trying to sneak up on him again.

"Yes," came the gruff reply, "Now open this damn door and let's get the others." It did not take long to round up the rest of the company.

As per usual, the next two dwarves released were Thorin's nephews, with both Fili and his uncle looking over their younger kin with a critical eye before allowing any of them to go on any further. Kili passed their test with seemingly flying colours, though his brother stayed almost devotedly by his side, and soon the rest were freed of their confinement. Almost miraculously, no one had uttered a single word in all that time, though there had been a few impatient grunts along the way.

Bofur and Balin had been the most laid back, the former just drifting lazily past as if to ask why they were rushing things when his cell door was opened. Dwalin, on the other hand, had been almost as desperate as Thorin to get out of the dungeons. He had stormed out of his cell and had been glaring at the hobbit ever since.

"We're here," Bilbo said, breathing a sigh of relief and feeling his muscles lose the tension they had gained from escorting thirteen dwarves through a labyrinth of corridors and tunnels where there was every chance they would be discovered. Bofur tugged at one of the dropping flaps of his hat, which he had been reacquainted with outside his cell thanks to Kili, surveying the scene before him.

"There are only thirteen barrels," he said as a matter-of-factly.

"I kind of noticed that," Bilbo ground out, again berating himself for forgetting the youngest of the company in his planning. He had been trying to find a solution to the barrel problem ever since he had found Kili in the cell. He looked at the dwarves. "I'll hang on the outside of one of your barrels." Kili looked at him and opened his mouth.

"Are you sure?" he asked dubiously, "That river sounds pretty strong."

"Yeah, we can trade places if you want," Fili added. Bilbo smiled at the two of them, addressing the blonde.

"I'm sure your uncle has enough grey hair as it is," the hobbit replied, seeing Thorin breath out a small sigh of relief out of the corner of his eye, "I'll be fine. I have a rather strong grip."

"Yes, I remember," laughed Nori, "You simply refused to let that plate go." About half the company chortled at the memory of their burglar fending off Nori as he had grabbed one piece of Bilbo's treasured crockery back in Bag End.

"Alright, with that sorted, everyone hop in," Thorin ordered. They all obeyed him, Dwalin and Bofur helping to lift Bombur into one barrel, and Kili curling up with some difficulty at the bottom of another. Dwalin grunted as he tried to get comfortable while the others chatted around him.

"Whatever happened to not talking?" he grumbled to himself as he awkwardly managed to get his long limbs in the barrel. Those who heard him ignored him with good cheer.

"It'll be good to see the sky again," Balin was telling Dori, who heartedly agreed.

"Yes, I must admit I grew quite restless in those rather small cells." Bilbo still hadn't figured out why the grey-haired dwarf talked so formerly.

"Everyone ready?" he called out, ready to push off the barrels. They all nodded, though a few looked rather pale faced. With everything ready, the first of the barrels hit the water as they were dislodged from their positions by the hobbit. Bofur clung onto his hat, crying out to the others as he did so.

"Brace yourselves," he yelled in a warning before they were all carried away by the surging water. Bilbo dived for the barrel containing Ori and was swept away along with it. Soon enough, the fortress was a good distance behind them, the alarm bells barely reaching their ears.

* * *

Legolas entered Tauriel's room to find her with her head in her hands.

"Am I a terrible person, Legolas?" she asked clearly dispirited. Legolas gave her a grim smile. He knew what it had cost her emotionally to betray the dwarf, though he was still surprised the nephew of Thorin Oakenshield had given her his trust.

"There is no use in dwelling over it; you could not defy my father and nor could you have lied to him. Just be glad that their person on the inside took the bait and the keys, though my father is in a right fury now that he has been informed his captives have escaped," Legolas took a breath, "We are to go after them and bring them back, though I see no reason to try our uttermost best to bring them back given that an orcish army could try and fail to storm the fortress at any moment. We wouldn't want to miss the action."

Though he wouldn't admit it, the prince did feel a growing concern for the young dwarf that had unwittingly placed his best captain, and him by extension, in his debt. He wondered whether the brunette would survive the violent passage of escape the river would provide him, with him in such a beaten state. He hoped he would for more reasons than one, that one being it would be good for his father to be outsmarted by a bunch of dwarves, humble him even if it was just a little. Of course, he had to keep his father from finding out that his youngest son and the captain of the guard helped the prisoners' escape.

* * *

Kili clung to the edges of his barrel, utterly petrified as the small wooden vessel was batted around roughly by the water. He bit his tongue as he was thrown against its side, feeling the dull agony the impact gave his wounds. The pain numbing mixture that the elves had given him that morning was wearing off and he was starting to feel the consequences of it.

The young dwarf heard shouting coming from behind them and turned his head to see the rapidly fading figures of a group of rather angry elves. He smirked as he saw one shake their fist at him, but that quickly disappeared as he was thrown again against the side, more brutally than the last time as the water tore him around a sharp corner. Black stops filled his vision and he sunk further down into his barrel his whole body consumed by agony, the spray of the roaring river splashing his unresponsive face.

* * *

Bilbo was having a hard time of his own. He had already lost the grip on the barrels of Ori, Fili and Dori, moving progressively backwards every time. Now the hobbit was clinging grimly onto Dwalin's barrel, the tall dwarf trying his best to maintain his own grip on both his barrel and the company burglar. So far he was succeeding.

Bilbo swore to himself that if he ever got out of this alive, he would never take the calm creek that ran around the Shire for granted again. He was soaked to his skin, beaten black and blue, and could no longer feel his numb, red fingers. The last fact he was grateful for as it meant he also could not feel the pain that came from his fingers being torn from the edges they were gripping repeatedly. He was also sure he had a slither of wood stuck in the smallest finger on his left hand, yet he could do nothing about it until they landed.

It was then the hobbit realised another flaw in his plan; he had no idea where they would end up or when they would finally cease their hellish ride. They might very well land in equally hostile territory, rendering their escape completely pointless. He wished he had of thought of that sooner.

"Sorry," he yelled, realising that Dwalin had been speaking to him, "What was that?"

"I said to hang on," Dwalin yelled back, his voice carrying over the roaring sound more clearly than his soaked companion's. Bilbo made the mistake of looking ahead and blanched as he saw the lengthy path they would soon have to take.

The passage was walled by stony cliff faces on both sides, and it twisted and turned sharply. The hobbit watched as Dori was thrown against his barrel as he entered the first bend, cursing loudly in a very un-Dori-like way. Several large rocks rose precariously out of the foaming water and when Bilbo saw Ori narrowly avoiding hitting one in the distance, his face paled even further.

"Good grief," he said to himself, "We have to go through that?" As it was, he lost his grip on Dwalin's barrel on the first bend.

The hobbit's ginger head pooped out of the water and he spluttered as several more wooden vessels bearing red-faced dwarves flew past. He went under again and came up for a second time, feeling a strong grip on the back of his coat. He was hulled unceremoniously to the edge of the barrel containing Bifur and secured to the side.

"Here," Bofur called from behind the pair, "He can jump in with me. I have plenty of room back here." Bifur looked meaningfully at his quarry who nodded and let go, allowing himself to be pulled towards Bofur's barrel. Luck appeared to be on his side, and he grabbed at the toymaker's extended hand, only a hair's width from going wide. The dwarf's arm pulled back and Bilbo suddenly found himself on relatively dry, but unstable ground.

"Thanks," he yelled above the wind whistling around their ears. Bofur only nodded, clearly too occupied by trying to steer their now shared barrel out of the way of a cluster of rocks.

* * *

"Come on, called Legolas, gesturing for his group of elves to move. They were going faster than the likings of both Tauriel and the elven prince, but with the elves all rearing to go, there was not much they could do to hold them back without giving away their hand in the escape. What worried the pair the most was the fact another, smaller group of elves had headed off before them, led by one of the elves who seemed to be able to live off Legolas' father's words alone.

The blonde prince knew that the dwarves had collected their weapons from where they had been stored (the door being mysteriously unlocked), but that would not be enough to save them from several elves in their tired state, not that they had been able to beat them before.

Beside him, Tauriel winced as a branch whipped across the chest. She caught his look and shook her head, implying she was fine. He took her word for it, though kept a close eye on her as they ran on.

* * *

Bilbo could have cheered with relief as he felt his and Bofur's barrel strike dry land, land that was out of the reach of the river. He tumbled wearily out of the barrel.

He looked around at the company as the last of the barrels landed, seeing that several dwarves were being carefully extracted by their companions. Beside him, Bofur landed face-first in the sand like soil and rolled over, groaning and swearing an oath never to ride in a barrel again. Fili was making his way over with concern to his brother's barrel when a voice made them all freeze.

"Step away from the river and place your weapons on the ground. Do not try to run or escape in any way or we will shoot you. If one of you does disappear, we will shoot the one closet to you."

Bilbo turned with a lead weight attached to his heart to face the drawn bow of a group of five elves. It seemed luck had abandoned them again, and this time he couldn't use his ring to disappear.

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	13. You've got to be joking

**I will try and get the next chapter up as fast as I can, meanwhile, enjoy what is below.**

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**Chapter 13: You've got to be joking **

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"You've got to be-"

"Dwalin, if you finish that sentence, I swear I will hit you over the head so hard that you'll be seeing stars for the next seven years," Balin growled. The taller dwarf shut up instantly. The elves smirked. Thorin looked like he was about to implode. Bilbo, for his part, was cursing quite spectacularly in his head.

He wasn't so much annoyed that his master plan hadn't worked ̶ for it had brilliantly ̶ it was more to do with the fact that it had worked and then they had been caught, again.

"Drop your weapons I said." All the dwarves obeyed the elf, letting go of the multiple swords, staffs, knives and hammers they had been previously wielding. Bilbo dropped Sting, adding his 'letter opener' to the pile. A rustling behind the elves caused two to whip around.

"Stop pointing your bows at me or I swear I will lock you in the brink myself!" exclaimed Legolas, peeved at the fact his own men's bows were aimed at him. The elves muttered a sheepish apology and lowered their weapons. "Don't apologise. What's done is done. Watch them." The two elves turned back to their quarries.

Bilbo watched as a few of the dwarves deflated slightly, any hope of fighting their way out of this mess vanishing as more elves appeared behind the prince of Mirkwood. The hobbit saw the blonde elf's eyes turn over the scene and was surprised when an almost mournful look passed over them. It was gone as soon as the prince laid eyes on the company burglar.

"So this is the one that helped them to escape. Keep an eye on him," he said, and as he turned away, beginning to walk around, Bilbo swore he had seen him somewhere else before; not from their previous capture, the talk in the hall or in the ginger elf's chambers, but somewhere far more recent. The moment was just beyond his reach, teasing him.

"All of you, in a line and no funny business or else," another elf commanded, aiming the order at the company. The ginger haired elf walked into view, limping ever so slightly as if she was in pain, so slightly that Bilbo's eyes almost did not pick the abnormality up. Thorin glared at her. "Twice caught by the same people," she laughed, staring back at him, "Not the smartest bunch are you." Surprising no one swore at her, a great restraint on Dwalin's part if his dark purple face was to anything to go by.

As they were guided back into the forest they had just escaped under a watchful eye, Bilbo caught Fili shoot one last glance at the barrels. He wondered why the blonde was so concerned when it struck him. You've got to be joking…

Legolas could barely hold back the chocking sob he wanted to let go of. There had been only thirteen barrels, and he now assumed the worst. He knew how treacherous the waters of the river could be, especially along the middle section, where it was more perilous than the many dangers lurking in the woods. Many a time someone had lost their life due to being smashed into the rocks.

He snapped his head up as Tauriel appeared at his side, a questioning, almost longing look on his face. She shook her head discreetly, bitting the inside on her cheek, her eyes gleaming. Legolas looked back at the ground. No one could have survived smashing into the rocks if they had been in any state but their utter best. No doubt they would find the remains of another barrel and its contents washed up along the riverbed somewhere.

Thorin glared at the elf in front of him, refusing to be cowered by his captors. Fili walked at his side, eyes looking at the ground and jaw working furiously, as if he was trying not to cry. Thorin knew him better though and he was equally concerned about his youngest nephew who had appeared to evade capture again. It would have been cause for celebration, but the fact that he had not seen the lad since the ride on the river was causing worry to gnaw at his heart.

The exiled dwarf king had sworn the brunette had been in the barrel behind him, yet when they had begun to twist and turn around the more vicious path, he had lost sight of Kili, the boy's head disappearing from view. For a while he had been gripped by the fear that the young dwarf had been smashed against the rocky walls, or that he had fallen out of the barrel and had met a watery death like his father had, but the wooden vessel that had carried his nephew had remained upright, causing relief to flow through him. Only now, as he was walking did he realise the boy had never emerged from the barrel, and the fear that had resided in him before hit him again with all its might.

Kili groaned and blinked awake blearily. He ached and was surprised that his brother hadn't already roused him. For a fearful moment he wondered if they had found out his secret but relaxed when he could not here concerned or angry breathing beside him. The young dwarf instantly tensed up again, quickly realising it was too quite.

Fling out one leg, he muffled a grunt of pain as he stubbed his big toe on the wood in front of it. So he was still in the barrel, but from the lack of rocking he would guess somewhere on dry land. A spray of water burst through some of the cracks, making his senses more alert. He stretched his cramped body as best he could in the confines of the barrel before stiffly swinging himself out of it. He tottered around on unsteady legs for a few moments before taking in where he was.

They had landed near the edge of the forest and the gloom beyond the trees sent chills down Kili's spine as he looked beyond the outlying vegetation. It seemed hostile and he was thankful he didn't have to go back in there. The young dwarf shivered again and realised he was soaked, not thoroughly, but thoroughly enough for the wind to freeze his wet skin. He turned to look for his brother to see if he had suffered the same way but found no one. Maybe they were still in the barrels.

A thorough search proved naught leaving only two options; either the company had drowned or, it some deep set tracks were anything to go by, they had wandered back into the forest. Kili's slow logic frustrated him, but it was a hard task to force himself to think straight as he shivered again in the breeze. Drawing his coat around him, the youth fell to one knee, looking for a reason his uncle had led the rest of the company, including his brother and Bilbo, back into Mirkwood. He did not need to search long to find the answer. Familiar tracks assaulted his mind and he briefly considered giving up and just sitting down, handing himself to the mercy of the elements and his own wounds. Never had he felt so useless as he did now, for he knew he was in no fit state to take on a group of elves, a group that had so successfully recaptured the company, on his own, with no outside help whatsoever. He fingered the bead around his neck.

_Focus_, he growled at himself, _what would Thorin or Fili do?_ His chattering teeth soon led him to a conclusion. _Get warm, and fast._ He had no spare coat and his fingers were too stiff to properly start a fire, but if he kept his limbs moving, he might reacquire some of his body heat. Grabbing his quiver and sword from his barrel, he started following the trail, getting a sense of deja-vu. He wondered whether it was bad or good luck the elves kept on missing him.

Bilbo shook his head to himself, wondering why it was always Kili that ended up being left behind (besides himself of course). He had just realised that the youngest of the company was missing, having somehow escaped capture. At first he had worried that he had drowned sometime during their flight on the river, but his worrying ceased when he remembered the dwarf could swim ̶ better than him at any rate ̶ and he had been towards the front, so he would have caught onto another barrel. The only other logical explanation that Bilbo could think of for his escape was the fact that the brown-haired dwarf had somehow heard the elves coming and had hidden, but he wondered why the dwarf had not warned them if that was the case.

_He mustn't have had the time to_, Bilbo reflected, supposing this to be the most likely explanation, but that still didn't account for the other flaw in his logic, the one inferring that he had been able to hear the elves coming.

The hobbit looked up, running almost smack into Bifur's back as he suddenly stopped. Peering out from behind the brawny dwarf, Bilbo saw that the elves at the front had stopped as well and now had their weapons drawn, aimed not at the company but at the strangely silent forest in front of them. That was when they heard the low growling.

Kili smiled to himself as he pushed on through the pain that flared up every time he tried to run. He was no longer cold and he seemed to be catching up to the elves with each moment that past. Of course he had to free the company, but even if he just managed to release one or two, they could work on a problem while he just sunk to the ground and rested his weary legs and allowed himself to sink into the blissful oblivion of a feather soft unconsciousness that was a sea of smooth, inky black that was so, so very appealing…

When Kili hit the ground, he didn't feel it. He was already buried deep in an exhausted sleep.

Tauriel tensed up as the low growl came again. She knew the sound and she knew what was associated with it.

_The growling barks of the wargs outside complimented the horror of the scene before her. Yazüak kicked the limp form of the bloody dwarf away from him, snarling in disgust and throwing the bloody knife he had been holding across the cave, narrowly missing several of the orcs under his command._

_"Tomorrow, feed him to the wargs bit by bit. See if he has anything to say then." The cruel orc turned to face her. "Feed the elf to them as well, they deserve a treat."_

_Tauriel could not hide the fear behind her eyes and he saw that, smiling as he turned his back on her and provoked the wargs guarding the outside into growling louder, several going so far as to leap towards the front of the cave, claws landing just shy of the entrance. The elfish captain jumped causing the orcs around her to laugh. She breathed heavily, praying to whatever almighty being that watched over Middle Earth for Legolas to get there in time to rescue her from what would literally be the jaws of death. She glanced at the beardless dwarf and swallowed, her breathing evening out. She would not abandon the youth, even if it meant her death._

If Legolas hadn't recused them when he had… Tauriel could not even begin to image what would have unrolled; certainly no grand plan of escape from her. Beside her, Legolas seemed to sense her discomfort. The captain of the guard met his eyes and he smiled reassuringly, brushing his hand against hers ever so slightly. She ignored the gesture and turned back to face the sound, eyes widening subconsciously and fingers gripping tight on the new swords she had been given as replacements for the ones she had lost.

The first mounted orc appeared on the rise of earth just through the trees, and Tauriel could see Legolas motioning for the elves to give the dwarves back their weapons. They would need all the help they could get.

Bilbo caught Sting by its tip just as the sword was thrown to him. He only had ponder briefly for a single moment why this was so when his unasked questions were answered and a torrent of wargs and orcs came crashing through the trees.

Dwalin, Balin, Oin and Gloin immediately placed themselves around Fili and Thorin, not restricting their ability to fight, yet offering them some sort of protection at the same time. The other dwarves bunched up in pairs or threes; small groups that would be easy to look out for in the coming chaos. Bilbo found himself partners with Bofur and Nori, both of whom had been walking along behind him. The company burglar held his sword up ready in a novice but determined hand.

The first wave of enemies were felled by a smooth line of arrows that shot from the bows of their captors. It was obvious now that the two groups would be working together, if only to save their own rears from pure strength in numbers, not that their numbers had much strength; the orcs were far plentiful than their prey. Another volley of arrows quickly followed the first, flying into the ranks of the charging orcs and their steeds. And never once did the line of archers waver, keeping in formation until the very last moment when the orcs came upon them.

All hell broke loose with Bilbo right in the midst of it all. He ducked a blow to the head, stabbing the scarred arm the offending sword belonged to and eliciting a guttural scream from the being the arm belonged to. The orc's pain was quickly ended by a heavy blow to the head from a war hammer, Bofur's war hammer in particular. Bilbo watched in a horrified fascination as his enemy's skull quickly caved in, eyes bulging from shock before glazing over in a comical expression. The hobbit closed his eyes for a moment, adjusted his set of mind, and then opened them again, giving Bofur a grim nod of thanks as he did so. The toymaker acknowledged him, opening his mouth to shout above the noise.

"Sticking together is our best bet of staying alive," he yelled. Bilbo nodded in agreement and quickly stabbed at a nearby orc, getting it in the heart by pure luck. It took a few more goes and help from Nori to dispatch of a rabid warg.

_This is insane_, thought Bilbo as he blocked a wild blow from a particularly enthusiastic orc, _beyond insane_. The hobbit caught the berserker with a failing blow to the neck as he jumped to avoid a dead warg rolling towards him. The orc's head fell to the ground as did its body, blood pooling out from the severed ends of its neck. He also managed to slash the throat of a more reserved orc, causing the creature to fall to the ground, yet not going in deep enough to kill him instantly. The orc would die a painfully slow death.

Lashing out with Sting again, Bilbo suddenly found himself next to Bofur and the blonde elf. The former continued to smash the orcs in every place within his reach breaking legs, arms, ribs and skulls. The latter moved gracefully, arching his swords up and over the dwarf to behead the orc behind him. Bofur did not turn to thank the elf, but rather returned the favour by progressively smashing the foot and then the head of a warg trying to sink its teeth into the elf.

Resting for a quick moment as Bofur and the prince of Mirkwood whirled around him, he quickly gained a perspective of how the battle was going. Several elves laid dead or dying, while several more had been injured. The dwarves had lost no one but Dwalin winced every time he raised his arm and Ori had one hand to his side as Dori defended him while he recovered. The same held true for Bombur who was downing orcs and wargs every way he turned while Bifur regained his footing beside him.

For a time it seemed like they had finally gained the upper hand, the combined fighting of the elves and the company working to ward off the attack. However, just when victory seemed in reach, another fresh batch of orcs charged into the clearing, swords and maces waving wildly around. At their head was an orc that almost defied description, so horrifying that Bilbo could not look upon him. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the red-haired female do the same and he was not surprised. The thing racing towards them was about as repulsive as he could get.

"You've got to be joking." This time no one told Dwalin to shut up for they were all thinking the same thing.

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**Please review.**


	14. Discovered

**I am not sure whether I am going to end this in the next couple of chapters or not so just keep and eye out and keep reviewing. I know this chapter does not have an overly lot of Bilbo in it, but the next one most likely will. It will also probably have less Tauriel and Legolas. Enjoy.**

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**Chapter 14: Discovered**

* * *

Kili rolled onto his back, disorientated to find himself on the earthen ground. He struggled to recall the past few moments, trying to work out why he was lying face first in the dirt. He stopped short and could have slapped himself. Durin's beard, he had fainted, literally collapsing out of sheer body exhaustion. That didn't make it any less embarrassing. It had also been time consuming judging from the rate the sun had fallen in the sky. He had been out for more than a few moments, losing precious time that could have been spent on tracking the company.

Slowly moving, the young dwarf first stood and then took a few tentative steps forward, wincing as his muscles protested the movement and the lacerations that marred his torso flared in a blinding agony. The world swam and Kili fell down to one knee before grudgingly rising again, determined not to pass out for a third time that day. The first time had been an accident, the second a combination of his own stubbornness and stupidity. Both times he had been lucky to wake in such a short amount of time. The third time it happened, he may very well not awaken for a day or more, leaving himself vulnerable to the dangers in the forest and the orcs that now ran loose in it.

The orcs…

It was then that the brunette realised he could hear the distant, very distant, yet indistinguishable battle cry of his brethren. Sweeping up his fallen weapons, he set forward at a run before stopping as he almost collapsed again. He waited for a moment, regaining his balance before setting his face in a determined line and pushing on at a slower speed, yet still moving forward at a brisk walk. He had not a moment to waste.

* * *

Tauriel finally worked up the courage to look up as Yazüak rode his way towards one pair; a battling elf and orc. Bringing his blade up in a sweeping arc, he beheaded both, showing his cruelty and disregard for his own men once again. The orc then turned slowly to face her, his one black eye glinting in an outrage beyond belief. The elfish captain held up her swords as if to ward him off simply by showing that she was armed. The monster's warg charged at her and she held both swords out straight, driving them into the creature's skull. Yazüak jumped off as the warg came crashing down onto its side, ripping both the swords from Tauriel's hands.

"Leave me alone," she said, her voice wavering as she raised her hands in an attempt to ward him off. This caused the orcish leader to throw his head back and give a short bark of laughter before he lunged at her, picking her up by the throat.

* * *

Legolas turned and met the scene before him with a horrified gaze. Tauriel was up against a tree, pinned to it by her neck, feet dangling off the ground helplessly. She was struggling for air, unsuccessfully landing weakening blows on her enemy.

"Well, look who we have here. Where's your little dwarf friend now, Tauriel? Guess he isn't around to save you from the knife this time. I will find him though, and gut him in front of you before you die a horribly painful death…or maybe I'll kill you first so he knows he failed in whatever it was he was trying to accomplish," he heard the orc sneer. His mind screamed at him to run, to save the female elf from the clutches of this monster but he could do nothing for at that moment he was fighting his hardest just to survive the wave of orcs that had come through.

Beheading a warg, he could only watch on as Tauriel's face slowly began to turn blue. At that moment, the orc holding her doubled over, hands releasing the elf as they clutched at a gaping wound in his leg. Suddenly the thirteenth dwarf appeared, grabbing Tauriel and pulling the still recovering elf away from the beast and out of sight between the trees, the orc regaining his previous state and giving chase.

Suddenly his eyesight was full of whirling braids and dark hair as the leader of the dwarves appeared into front of him. He held back the tide of orcs, giving Legolas a respite from the fighting. The dwarf jerked his head in the direction the trio had disappeared.

"Go after them," he growled, "You have longer legs than I do. Save my nephew if you can. If you can't, leave his body where we can find it." The exiled king had obviously seen the trio leave as well.

"You have my word," said Legolas sincerely before running off after the elf, dwarf and orc.

"Wait," Thorin yelled after him. Legolas turned around.

"What?" he asked, desperate to go after Tauriel. The exiled king looked after him.

"Promise to leave my company alone. We will be gone as soon as we finish here and I can sense you have other things on your mind then us."

Legolas looked around where the other elves were battling. They seemed distracted enough, yet he could not risk everything ̶ his family, position and life ̶ just to help some dwarves escape.

"I can only try," he said finally, being sure not to promise anything. The king seemed to understand. He nodded.

"What are you waiting for then?" he asked as he behead another orc that had come flying at him, "_Run!_"

* * *

Kili was panting heavily, quite sure, that if the situation had been better, the elf he was holding onto would not appreciate his sweaty hand covering her own delicate one. For now she didn't seem to mind.

"Here," she said, ducking behind a tree and pulling him with her. They held their breaths as footsteps ran past, relaxing once they had disappeared.

"That was close," Kili gasped, blinking rapidly several times to stop his eyelids from slowly closing out the world around him. Tauriel agreed before falling silent for a moment.

"That was the second time you have saved me," she said, and Kili looked up to find her staring at him intensely, "Why?" she asked. Kili thought about.

"Well, the first time no one deserved to go through that, least of all a women ̶ not to be offensive ̶ even if it was an elf."

"And the second?" It took Kili longer to think about his answer to this question.

Truth be told, he was not entirely sure why he had saved the elf, being in a very poor state after stretching his limits to reach the fight at that exact moment. It had been his subconscious that had driven him to draw his sword and lash out, saving the elf who had been in strife; an instinct to protect those of a female gender from harm. It had been something else entirely that had caused him to draw her away from the fighting, to take it that one step further and place her life in his hands, taking it out of fate's.

"I…" he said, looking up into her eyes, unsure of what to say. But it didn't need to be said and she leaned forward, pecking him lightly on the cheek.

"Well, I guess you're my little knight in shining armour," she said playfully before pausing, "Have you ever thought about the future?"

"What?" Kili exclaimed in shock, completely taken by surprise from the question that had seemingly come out of nowhere.

"You know, after you finish your journey. Getting married, settling down. Have you ever thought of starting a family?"

Kili was about to answer when a head peeked around from a tree in front of them.

"Peek-a-boo," the twisted orc grinned.

* * *

Bilbo's arms were tiring, the orcs around him thankfully almost completely gone. The same, unfortunately, could not be said for their steeds.

Taking a small step back, Bilbo began to walk backwards, staring into the dripping maw of the warg in front of him. Sting was unleashed and hanging ready for use by his side, yet the hobbit knew that he would most likely not get a chance to use it, bearing no great skill in fighting himself. However, the tall warrior creeping up behind the warg did.

It was with a crushing blow that Dwalin brought his axe down on the warg's neck, decapitating it and spraying blood everywhere. Bilbo got a face full, the creature being right in front of him when it had met its demise.

"A bit of warning next time," he said, wiping the thick, warm liquid out of his eyes. Dwalin raised his eyebrows.

"Had I warned you, you would be dead." Bilbo didn't care, the dwarf hadn't needed to wait that long, and he knew it, the company burglar could tell from the gleam in his eyes.

"Are you two just going to stand there and face each other off or help the rest of us?" their leader's voice yelled, as cheerful as ever. The two took the safer option and moved in to help Thorin ward of a three pronged attack.

* * *

Tauriel gasped as she and Kili ran for it, sides burning and torso in agony from the wounds she had received Yazüak's hand and throat sore from where the same orc had given strangling her a good go.

"I can't go any further," she gasped, collapsing to the ground. Guilt instantly flooded her as the dwarf turned around, the same weary look etched upon his face.

"Very well then," he said, "Hide somewhere nearby and I will draw him off. If I come back, I will find you. If I don't, well…" he trailed off. Again Tauriel looked up at him, confusion drowning out the fearful sorrow in her own eyes.

"But why?" she asked again.

"Just hide," the dwarf snapped back, and then he was gone, but not before pressing something into her hand.

It was not until after she had dragged herself into a bush and had waited for Yazüak's footsteps to long since fade into the distance that she even looked at her clenched hand. Opening it, she caught her breath, staring at the object before closing her hand again and holding it close to her chest, tears forming in her eyes.

* * *

Legolas ran for all he was worth. If that orc touched Tauriel again, he had no doubt that the vile beast would kill her. And as for the dwarf, well, if he failed to get there on time, then he too would lose his life.

A sound caught his attention and he paused, just for a moment, trying to catch it again in the wind.

"Legolas…" Someone was calling his name, someone nearby. And the prince knew exactly who that someone was.

"Tauriel, where are you?" he asked, turning around. Then he saw her. Dropping to one knee, her looked her over. "Are you alright?" he asked, noting the tears that were welling up in her eyes.

"You have to go after him," she said. Legolas did not need to ask who 'him' was.

"Which way?"

"He ran straight ahead. The orc followed," Tauriel answered. Legolas frowned, about to stand when suddenly he thought of something else.

"Tauriel," he said urgently, "I need you to get the rest of the elves to meet me somewhere away from the fighting and the dwarves. I will find you after I deal with this nuisance." The blonde prince helped her to her feet, proud of the fact that her tears seemed to have suddenly disappeared. "Now go," he said, kissing her once on the top of the head. She hugged him back, smiling.

"Do not get yourself killed," she told him before running back the direction he had come, somewhat slower than usual. Legolas, for his part, kept on straight ahead, drawing his bow as he did so.

* * *

Thorin watched as the red-headed elf suddenly reappeared, signalling to the others. The elves grouped around her before they all fell back, disappearing into the trees.

"Those sons of…" Dwalin began. Thorin cut him off.

"It is no matter. We can easily defeat the rest on our own," he said, almost gleeful to be rid of the elves and disbelieving that the blonde had seemed to keep his word so far. Fili and Bofur suddenly came up to him.

"We think we saw Kili," they said, gesturing towards the place where the exiled king had last seen the blonde elf leave. Thorin nodded.

"Aye, I saw him too. Once we finish up here, we can go after him." The company leader could not help but show a little fear for the well-being of his youngest nephew.

* * *

The giant orc in front of him swung his blade just as Kili twisted out of his grasp, catching the blow that was meant to sever his head from his neck in his arm instead. He winced in pain before a rush of adrenaline took over and he dodged another blow, managing to send the orc's dripping blade flying from his hand in his own attack. They had long since caught up to each other and had been at this for a short while, the orc's rage lending him strength while Kili's already worn out body depleting his own strength fast.

Suddenly the orc landed a solid blow to one of Kili's already unsteady legs, not enough force to knock him down, but just enough to throw the youth off balance for whatever came next, ensuring that he could not duck the blow. It all went downhill from there very fast.

* * *

The half blind orc knew of at least one of the dwarf's weaknesses and how to take advantage of it to his use. He had correctly guessed that his quarry was tiring and barely managing to stand upright on shaky legs, the pain from the wounds that he had inflicted on the dwarf before. Yazüak smiled menacingly for he also knew of one other thing that would soon incapacitate his opponent.

As the brown-haired dwarf flew at him, he lashed out with one fist, hitting him square in the section of chest he had thoroughly tortured. The dwarf went flying back, all the wind and fight knocked out of him as he twisted around in agony. The brunette raised his head wearily as Yazüak bent to retrieve his discarded sword, before letting it fall back down, unconsciousness soon taking him almost mercifully from the maddening pain he had been about to experience.

_A shame_, thought the orcish leader as he raised his sword ready to plunge into the dwarf's heart, he had been looking forward to watching his escape captive die in almost unbelievable agony. An arrow embed itself in his throat a moment before he managed to strike the final blow.

Falling back, Yazüak grasped with clumsy fingers at the fine arrow protruding from the side of his thick neck. He opened his mouth and gurgled, blood pouring from it almost immediately in a crimson waterfall of liquid. A blonde elf stepped into the clearing, placing his bow behind his back and drawing one of his finally crafted swords. Yazüak met the elf's gaze with his black eye, refusing to flinch in the face of his death.

He caught the elf's gaze stray towards the motionless dwarf and he let out a chilling laugh.

"You are…too late…to…save him," he managed to gasp out, the arrow in his throat moving deeper into his flesh with every spoken word.

"Then you will die along with him," the elf said coolly before bring his blade down in a sweeping arc.

* * *

Legolas grimly wiped his blade clean on the beheaded orc's armour before turning his attention back to the dwarf. His heart thumped wildly in his chest and he feared the orc had been right; he was too late to save the youth's life. He had recognised the blue-black liquid dripping from the tip of the giant orc's sword, knowing it to be one of the most deadly poisons in all of Middle Earth. No cure had ever been found. And the red blood mingled with the venomous fluid had certainly not been there before when the orc had gone after the brunette. He wiped that blade clean too, not wanting somebody to accidently stumble upon it and cut themselves.

The prince of Mirkwood knelt before Kili, looking at the only fresh wound that marred his slight form. Grasping the injured arm in his strong but slender hands, the elfish warrior inspected the damage. It was not deep, yet it had certainly been deep enough to penetrate the dwarf's flesh, to allow the poison to get into his bloodstream, poison that would kill him in the very near future unless the elf did something now. Legolas swallowed, the intensity of the situation suddenly dawning on him.

Muttering under his breath, the elven prince recited a short but effective spell used by elfish healers in only the most dire of situations; situations where there was literally no other option left to take. Legolas was glad he had taken the time to learn the spell, even if it was one that would only delay the inevitable. It would stop the deadly venom flowing through his system sure enough, but it would only act as a sort of barrier, weakening as time passed, allowing more and more of the poison to filter through the dwarf's body, eventually allowing enough of the lethal toxin to be pumped to his heart and kill him slowly and painfully, making him seem as if he was almost drowning, albeit slowly, losing his honed skills and abilities gradually in the process. He had what, a few months at the most, weeks being the more likely scenario. Still, at least he would be able to say goodbye to his family, his uncle. That much he could give the young dwarf, for his life was out of the question, and that was something he truly regretted. One so young should never have to die with so much pain.

Standing, he glanced at the dwarf one last time before moving off into the woods, assured by the rustling sound of the coming dwarves that the youth would soon be found and attended to, being kept out of harm's way. He caught sight of the group of elves he had led to 'capture' the escaped dwarves. Tauriel was among them, shaken but unhurt except for the bruising around her throat and underneath her chin where the orc he had killed had held her up. He shuddered inwardly, thinking of what he might have to tell her if she asked the question he was dreading she would.

"It is time for us to go," he said simply, not pausing as in his walk back to the fortress.

"What about the dwarves?" one of the elves asked. Legolas did not hesitate.

"They are of no matter. Besides, have we not fought enough today already? I am not inclined to now have to fight to bring them back. They also have several of their own wounded and I believe it would be best to leave them to their own devices and treat their comrades. They escaped fair enough and have left the woods and I believe they do not intend to return." Legolas' words were true enough and he breathed a sigh of relief as the elf did not further push the matter.

* * *

They burst through the trees, weapons at the ready, only to catch sight of the beheaded orc and the motionless Kili before them. Fearing the worst, the company ran over to the stricken dwarf, Fili and Thorin immediately falling to their knees by his side, both scrutinising the steady rise and fall of their kin's chest.

"He breaths," called Thorin as Fili almost collapsed with relief. Bilbo felt the same emotion run through him. He fell back as Oin pushed his way past him and knelt beside Thorin, forcing the exiled king to move closer towards where Fili was carefully pulling Kili's head into his lap, trying futilely to rouse his unresponsive brother.

"I don't see any visible wounds save the one on his arm, but that is far too shallow to allow him to lose enough blood to cause a state of unconsciousness," Oin said as he roughly bandaged the wound anyway, "I am guessing he got knocked back with a powerful blow somewhere towards his upper body." The half deaf healer moved to feel for any broken or bruised ribs pressing down lightly but firmly on the ribs through Kili's shirt. He frowned.

"What is it?" demanded Thorin. Oin pressed down harder several more times before answering.

"I cannot feel his ribs, as if they have been bound multiple times in some sort of cloth," he answered, fingers moving to the edge of Kili's tunic ready to yank it up and back, and reveal the youth's chest. Bilbo's gaze strayed to the slumped and headless body of the orc, seeing an arrow protruding from its neck, a rather finely crafted arrow with cream-white feathers attached to its shaft. Of elfish make, but as far as the hobbit knew, no elves had come anywhere near this area during or after the fighting. A sharp intake of breath caused Bilbo to look back to the rest of the company.

Oin had pulled back his patient's shirt to reveal a heap of almost white bandages beneath, encircling most of the young dwarf's upper body. Bilbo remembered back in the dungeons of the elves where he had first laid eyes on Kili, taking the dwarf to be strangely bulkier than usual. Suddenly he blanched.

"Oin, can you delay his treatment for a bit? There might still be orcs lurking around and I don't trust the fact that the elves just up and left us like that. We need to get out of this forest as soon as possible." The grey bearded healer nodded to his leader, quickly pulling Kili's tunic back into place. As Dwalin bent to sling the unresponsive dwarf over his shoulder Oin shook his head.

"I don't know what is wrong with him so it would be best to move him as little as possible in case of any injury to his neck or back. A stretcher might work if you can make one." The company burst into activity at his words as they looked around for something they could use to transport their injured quarry on. They ended up lashing Balin's staff to a fallen tree branch of around the same size together with Fili's cloak, carefully slipping the hammock-like stretcher under Kili before it was lifted just as carefully by Dwalin, Gloin, Bofur and Fili. They set off back towards where they had left the barrels, slowly weaving their way through the trees, on constant guard in case something came flying out at them.

Bilbo walked next to the stretcher and chanced a glance at his companion's pale face. Kili's eyes remained stubbornly closed as he was jostled around, despite those carry him best efforts.

* * *

**Please review. And a word of warning; there will most likely be a character death sometime in the near future, in the last chapter. Sorry about doing that to Kili, but I had the idea halfway through writing this chapter and thought up a really good (if not sad) ending for this story involving both our lovely elves and Thorin (and most likely Fili). I am not giving anything else away.**


	15. Wondering

**Not the best chapter so far, but I sort of needed it to build up to the one after this which I have already half written (so it should be up soon). I hope you don't mind this one, and I promise the next one will be way better (with more Kili, Fili, Thorin interactions and hopefully the longest one yet-no promises there).**

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**Chapter 15: Wondering**

* * *

Bilbo watched as Fili paced anxiously back and forth in the small quarters they had been given by the men of Dale. After carrying the blonde's wounded brother for ages on the makeshift stretcher, they had finally reached civilisation where Thorin had one way or another acquired this barren house for them all to share refuge in, for the moment at least anyway, from an archer named Bard.

The house only contained one bed which was immediately given over to the still unconscious youngest member of the company while the rest of them either took to the floor or the few stray chairs that had survived over the years, pretty much escaping any significant damage.

Oin, Fili and Thorin had stayed up all night with the brunette who was just as unresponsive as when they had found him while the others had gotten the good night's sleep they needed, awakening in the morning to Oin's concerned face, Thorin's thunderous one, and Fili's pacing.

"Fili, sit down before you drive me madder than you already have," the exiled king almost roared. The blonde immediately plonked into the nearest seat but continued to tap his feet in a frenzy, obviously agitated. Thorin growled, something obviously putting him on edge as he fingered his own dark braids beside his head.

"What is it?" asked Dwalin, tired of the suspense and trying to distract the company leader from the antics of his eldest nephew before they both done something they would regret. Oin took a breath, stepping forward and Bilbo felt his heart turn ice cold.

No…

"Kili's wounds are non-substantial and he is merely sleeping," said the healer much to the others' relief. Bilbo felt the cold grip around his heart release, and turned his head to smile at Fili. The smile instantly turned to a frown as the hobbit realised the young blonde was not joining in with the relief and neither were the other two who had stayed up with their injured companion.

"But," Thorin continued immediately dampening the mood, "There is something else." The look on his face was about as grim as it could get.

Bilbo glanced beyond where the healer and exiled king were standing, looking further back to see the still motionless form of Kili. His chest was bare save for the small wooden bead that lay upon his collar bone, threaded through the leather cord around his neck. The blankets covered him from the waist down and in between them were…

"My god," gasped Bilbo quietly as he took in the sight before him.

Kili's chest lay free of the bandages that had been constricting them before. His skin was somewhat clammy with sweat, but it was a hot night, and stifling indoors where thirteen dwarves and a hobbit were crowded in. No, the cause for the company burglar's outburst lied in what covered the young dwarf's torso. Wicked looking slash marks were littered around the lad's lean frame, angry red lines raised slightly against his skin. The wounds looked like they had been made by an equally wicked looking knife, one that was twisted and cruel, one that's very name rang with fear. Bilbo swallowed unintentionally.

Balin's socking curse behind him dragged him back to the present.

"How…?" was all he could manage to utter, eyes still locked on the sight before him. Oin smiled grimly at him.

"That is my question exactly, for he had not received them when he was with us last."

That much was true. The night before they had all been captured, Fili and Bofur had upended a small container of water on top of Kili while he had been cleaning his arrows. He had dried his tunic by the small fire that had been going, after which he had chased the pair responsible around the camp before all three of them falling over Thorin as he laid sleeping. That had resulted in the young dwarf being sent to collect the wood the very next morning, even though it was really Fili and Bofur's fault. Bilbo had tried to argue that point much to the two dwarves' horror, but Thorin had been in too much of a rage to listen. Amidst it all, the hobbit remembered quite clearly the bare chested Kili wringing out his hair by the fire with no such markings scattered across his chest.

"Torture?" Bofur's voice asked disbelievingly.

"Torture," Thorin answered darkly, "Why else would they be so precise as to be put in the very places which inflict the maximum pain possible?" That silenced the rising chatter of the company as they exclaimed their horror at the sight before them. Bilbo just directed his gaze to the leader's face, stunned.

"But why?" asked Ori, his own gaze riveted on one of the worst wounds that marred the brunette's upper body.

"For that, we need him to tell us. And for him to tell us he needs to wake." Fili's voice was just about as deadpan as it could get.

* * *

Thorin watched from the doorway as Oin rebandaged his youngest nephew's chest. A cold wash of fury ran through him and he entered the room, sinking into the chair beside the loaned bed.

"How is he?" asked the dark-haired dwarf, glancing down at the slumbering form of Kili.

"Well, he'll sleep for a while." The healer sounded like he was holding something back, but Thorin decided not to press the matter. If it was something of vital importance, he was sure the old dwarf would tell him.

"Why do you figure that?" Oin turned, smiling slightly at his question.

"Because he is exhausted. Look at his expression. The poor lad seems to be worn down to his very bones. That would not be surprising if this event occurred before the escape, which it most likely did."

Thorin forced down the rage that boiled up inside of him at the mention of the incident which had caused his youngest kin so much harm and turned to look at the expression the boy wore. It did indeed seem exhausted, his breathing even, yet slow and deep. Thorin ran one warm hand through the brown hair fanned out on the pillows underneath Kili's head. He twirled the thin strands around his fingers and looked up as Oin moved to leave.

"I am sure he will be fine with you for a while. I need to just gather my thoughts for a second. If he wakes, call me." The old healer then left the room.

Thorin gazed back at his unresponsive nephew and sighed. The bead around the lad's neck caught his gaze. He picked it up with careful fingers and inspected it closely.

The bead was small and made of a light coloured wood. Looking closer, he saw an intricate carving on the sides of the bead. Several branches twirled around the small object, small, three-pronged leaves hanging off each twig. Every few spaces around the diameter of the bead was a small, highly detailed bird, one that looked like a swallow or sparrow. Thorin ran his fingernail around the design, feeling the rises when his nail hit a thin crevice running down the length of one side. He bent closer over the bead before sitting back up straight, smiling to himself. It was a bead to place at the end of a braid. The exiled king frowned, wondering where his nephew had gotten it.

Suddenly his hand holding the bead was grabbed by an iron like grasp around its wrist. Thorin froze as dark eyes stared up at him.

"Kili," he said, breathing a sigh of relief as he let go of the trinket around his nephew's neck and pushed the youth back down, "Oin! He's awake." His words brought the whole company bursting in. Kili flinched at the loud noise of the door banging open.

"Out of my way," growled the company healer, pushing eager dwarves left and right in order to get to his patient. They moved aside like water breaking on rocks. Kili was still frowning at the noise, fists clenching and unclenching as a reflex. Oin took one look at the young dwarf's confused and still startled face and promptly chased all from the room excluding himself, Thorin and Fili. This was something that the exiled king was grateful for.

Thorin watched both his nephews from the corner of the room as one laid on the bed, the other knelt beside it. Kili obeyed everything Oin asked of him without hesitation, wincing every now and then as he stretched. Soon enough the healer moved from his position next to the bed to his king's side.

"How is he?" asked Thorin gruffly, watching the young pair before him for a few more moments before turning to the healer.

"He should be fine, though he won't be getting up any time soon so I suggest you put your plans for Erebor on hold for a few more days. It might give us all a chance to recuperate," Oin finished somewhat lightly.

"Did he say anything about…you know?" Thorin's heart sank as Oin shook his head.

"I hinted here and there, but he didn't mention it. Right now I think he's just to worn out to tell us." And there was truth to the healer's statement. With another glance at the bed, Thorin saw that his youngest nephew had again fallen prey to the not unkind claws of sleep. Even though the state unnerved him, if that was what his nephew needed to be himself again, then that was what he would get.

"Thank you," he told Oin sincerely, "Would you mind telling the others to keep it down for now? They can get pretty rowdy, your brother, Bofur and Dwalin especially." The healer nodded and left the exiled dwarf king alone in the room with his two nephews, one conscious and the other not. He moved towards Fili, placing a reassuring hand on his shoulder.

"He'll be fine, won't he uncle?" The almost childish question had been haunting Thorin since the moment the blasted elves had caught them.

"He will pull through, just like he always does." If only the statement didn't sound so much like a question.

* * *

Kili blinked his eyes open to find the worn and sleeping face of his brother beside him.

"Fili…" he said softly, using one hand to prod the elder awake. The blonde dwarf jerked to life beside him, at first not knowing what was going on.

"What the…?" he said before he laid eyes upon his now conscious brother, "Kili…" The brunette watched as he sighed in relief.

"How are the others?" he asked, wincing as the aching in his chest began. According to Oin, he had several bruised, if not broken ribs. Fili smiled at him warmly, a smile that Kili had missed in everything that had come to pass in the last few days.

"About as well as one could be in a small, four roomed house with thirteen dwarves and a hobbit, all forbidden to go wandering in the town beyond the door. Of course, they have been worried about you and Oin has ordered them all to be quite while you slept." This last part made the small amount of guilt that Kili had been feeling to multiply in amount.

"Kili?" The gruff, yet somewhat concerned voice came from a darkened corner in the room. Kili moved his head in order to glimpse his uncle.

"I'll get Oin," said Fili, somehow sensing that Thorin wanted to talk to his brother alone. Kili watched wistfully as the golden braids of his brother disappeared behind the door.

* * *

It was a little later when Kili's brother reappeared in the room with the company healer. In that time, Thorin had bombarded his nephew with questions about his health and well-being, asking him multiple times if there was anything that he might want to get off his chest. Kili had curiously become more tight lipped with each passing moment, answering only out of respect for his king and the concern his uncle showed.

Fili helped his brother to sit after a few protests by the younger dwarf were rebutted by each dwarf in the room. Thorin had to hide a smile at the stubbornness of his kin, so much like his own fierce standings on unswayable topics. Oin proceeded to unbind the bandages surrounding his patients chest and Thorin turned away in disgust at what had been done to his nephew. He fidgeted with a few things on his side of the room before turning back to the trio behind him.

Oin, to his immense relief, had finished rewinding the bindings around Kili's chest. The older dwarf continued his tending to Kili's arm while Thorin moved closer to the bed. Kili offered him a wan smile.

"I'm fine so you should stop worrying." This didn't alleviate the older dwarf's dark expression.

"What happened?" he asked, deciding to cut to the chase and see whether Kili would answer him. The young dwarf turned his gaze to his brother acting as if he hadn't spoken.

"When was the last time you got a good night's sleep, not just a light doze?" he asked, "You look pretty worn out." The blonde shot a look at his uncle before turning back to his brother.

"You should be worrying about yourself, Kili," was the answer.

Thorin shook his head slightly at Oin as they shared a glance. When it came to Kili, Fili always put himself second. What was more concerning was the way the younger of the pair had avoided his question. Without his input, they wouldn't know what had happened to him and whether the elves were to blame or not. They also wouldn't know how to help the brown-haired youth from a more mental level either; how the event might have changed him. At this point, they would just have to guess.

* * *

Kili watched his brother and uncle fall into a deep slumber, listening as the rest of the company settled down around the small house to sleep. Sighing, he looked up at the ceiling, fingering the cord on which the small wooden bead hung wondering who they would get to question him next, trying to convince him to reveal his most painful, most dark secrets.

_Have you ever thought of starting a family?_

In the light of the moon shining through a crack in the window, Kili smiled to himself. Maybe; when they had reclaimed Erebor, and if he survived whatever else this quest had yet to throw at him; just maybe he wold give the notion some serious thought.

* * *

**Review please, pretty, pretty please. Tauriel and Legolas will not be in it for a while (sorry). **


	16. To Understand

**I really, really hope you like this chapter. **

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**Chapter 16: Too understand**

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None of the company had really spoken over what they had seen the morning before except for hushed conversations as they tried to piece together what had happened between themselves. Kili himself did not give any inkling to broaching the topic and appeared to be as cheerful as he was towards the beginning of the journey. But the other's knew they would need to talk about it at one stage, preferably sooner than later, even if it was not on the youth's own terms. What had befallen the young dwarf was indeed a serious topic.

It soon became clear that the task would fall to either Fili or Thorin, both being bonded closely to Kili; more so than the rest of the company. The general idea was that the brown haired dwarf would be more willing to open up to them than anyone else. Fili was the more likely choice of the two, being far less intimidating than his uncle. And so it came to be that the blonde dwarf was seated with the responsibility of finding out what had occurred between the time of the capture of the rest of the company by the elves and when they had broken out of the dungeons of the same beings.

* * *

Fili sat tentatively down next to his younger brother, fiddling with the hem of his tunic. They were seated just outside the small house the company had been given as quarters by the men of Dale, around the back and out of sight of most humans that chanced to pass by. The two dwarves just sat for a time, not uncomfortable in each other's presence, but not exactly relaxed either. They were both wary, as if each knew what the other was going to say. Turning to his brown-haired brother and taking a deep breath, Fili opened his mouth to speak, praying in his mind to all the divine forces he knew that he did not screw this up for both their sakes.

"Kili, I-" His brother cut him off mid-sentence, looking down at his hands.

"I know what you want to say, but there is no point in saying it."

Fili raised his eyebrows at statement, questioning in his mind whether his brother knew the gravity of the situation.

"Why is there no point in it?" he asked, clearly confused as well as a bit frustrated.

"Because," said Kili with a sigh, "You wouldn't understand even if I did explain it to you." Fili could have groaned out loud. Great. He had failed before he had really started. That didn't mean he was giving up though. He just had to break his brother's outer exterior.

"You can't just assume that I won't understand, Kili. You would be surprised at what some people can comprehend if a proper explanation if given."

"Stop it."

"Stop what?" Fili asked.

"Pretending you can fix it, pretending you can make me whole again, because you can't. I know." Kili's tone was bitter and his eyes were staring straight ahead, not seeing anything. "So stop acting like you give a damn about what happened." Fili was shocked, and not just at his brother's attitude, but his words as well.

"How could you think that?" he asked, aghast, "How could you think I wouldn't care? You are my brother, and there is nothing I wouldn't do for you. If I could have taken your place I would have." If he was shocked before by the brunette's last comment, it was nothing compared to when Kili suddenly turned, glaring at him.

"You should not say things you do not fully understand," he almost growled. Fili looked at him, both bewildered and taken aback at his usually cheerful brother's response. He had always been able to comfort his brother in the past by saying one way or another, that he would have saved him if he could have, which was the truth.

"What are you talking about?" he queried, suddenly sensing he may just be about to experience a breakthrough or a breakdown of some form, though it could most likely be the latter. Kili answered him without hesitation.

"I am saying that you should not so easily say you would take my place. What they did could make or break someone, forcing them to show their true strength and will."

"I don't care. You are my younger brother and I would die for you, and if taking your place would have been what saved you, then that's what I would have done."

"No," Kili cried out, clearly frustrated, "Don't say that! You don't understand. This is more than just being hurt, more than even being killed. There is no life and death situation, there is only life and pain, blazing, red-hot pain. So you cannot say that you would take my place when you have never experienced what it's like." Fili frowned at his brother as the brown-haired dwarf's hands finally stopped flying everywhere.

"I don't need to understand what it's like because I would jump in without a second thought, and anyway, if you just told me-"

Kili rounded on his brother, cutting him off, the fury that had seemed to be lurking beneath the surface suddenly bubbling over.

"Do you know what it's like?" he snapped out, hands clenching unconsciously into fists, "Do you know what it's like to be tortured? To be filled with a pain so intense the only possible escape is to die yet knowing that even_ that_ is beyond you? To have _them_, the _monsters_ of your childhood nightmares laughing and jeering in your face as you try not to scream? To know there is nothing you can do as _they continue_ to maim you in ways you never thought possible? To-" He cut short as he finally noticed the tears welling up in his brother's eyes. The blonde stood.

"If that's the way you feel…" Fili began, hiding the quiver in his voice.

"Fili, I didn't mean to…" But what could the young dwarf say, for he had meant everything he had said and Fili knew that. But what the younger couldn't grasp was the fact that his brother could imagine each scenario quite clearly, even if he did not fully understand the implications that would stem from them. He sighed and sat back down.

"Truthfully, no, I do not know what it would be like but that doesn't mean I'm not willing to listen." Fili waited for his brother to respond. He did not, rather looking down at the ground between his feet. "Kili…"

After a while, it became painfully clear that the conversation would go no further, so Fili stood and left, seeking his uncle so that they could exchange places. What he failed to realise as he turned away however, was the fact his brother's shoulders were shaking as he finally broke down after so long of holding it all in, for the young dwarf had not cried once since that ill-fated morning.

He had not cried when the company had been taken, nor when he had been captured first by the elf and then the orcs, or when he had been rescued by a group of strangers. Kili had not complained when he had lurked as a prisoner in the dark dungeons. He had not allowed himself to cry out during the brutal trip in the barrel, nor when the rest of the company had been caught again and certainly not when he had walked away from the red-haired elf towards what they both had been almost certain would be certain death. He was from the line of Durin and was made of tougher stuff than that, but when it appeared his own family had seen his weakness, his insecurity, not even he could hold back the tide of sorrow that came with it.

* * *

Bilbo watched as Fili came in through the doorway and immediately sat with his head in his hands, obviously at a loss of what to do. A dark figure raised from another chair and exited the way the blonde had come. The other dwarves all crowded round Kili's brother, eager for news, but apprehensive as to what they might or might not hear.

"Did he say anything?" The question belonged to Bofur and it was pretty obvious who 'he' was.

"If that _bastard_ wasn't already dead, I would kill him a hundred times over," the look in Fili's eyes when he lifted his head could have murdered a whole troop of orcs on its own, "No, he didn't say anything solid to prove that those _monsters_ were the ones responsible, but he didn't need to." The blonde was right, they had all heard what the orc had said to the red-haired elf that Kili had said had caught him.

_"Well, look who we have here. Where's your little dwarf friend now, Tauriel? Guess he isn't around to save you from the knife this time. I will find him though, and gut him in front of you before you die a horribly painful death…or maybe I'll kill you first so he knows he failed in whatever it was he was trying to accomplish."_

The gentle hobbit thought back to the glimpse he had caught of the youth's injuries and a red-hot wave of rage washed through him. If that orc was still alive, Fili wouldn't have a chance of killing him for Bilbo would have already gutted him like a fish before the blonde came anywhere near Kili's torturer. That foul monster was lucky he was deader than a doorknob. From the bloodthirsty way the rest moved around him, the company burglar could tell the rest felt the same way.

* * *

Kili felt the soundless sobs rack his body, but they would not stop, now having gained a mind of their own. Not that he cared. He was both mentally and physically exhausted from everything that had passed and at that moment he just wanted to wither away and die. He had thought he was ready for this journey, this quest, but he had obviously been wrong. Who was he kidding? He was still no more than a child no matter what he argued; not fully of age, and certainly not as strong as he had led himself to believe.

The truth of the matter was he had been shaken since the incident, though he had tried to hide it from the others. If his uncle caught wind that he wasn't exactly sound of mind he might very well be carted back home. He probably would be anyway; Thorin's expression had appeared more than disgusted when he had glimpsed the wounds the orc had inflicted on him, an expression that had imprinted itself on Kili's young mind though he tried not to show it.

He raised his head from his hands and found himself staring at the exiled dwarf king who was leaning vertically against the back wall of the house barely three paces away. Kili went to stand but immediately dropped back down as a flash of pain shot through him, protesting the fast movement. The brunette turned his head so he didn't have to watch his uncle continue to stare at him or the way a small frown suddenly appeared on his brow. A few moments later and he felt the stoic dwarf's usually reassuring but now intimidating presence next to him.

"Kili…" The brunette tried to ignore the almost begging tone that was implied along with this one word his uncle had uttered. "Kili, lad, look at me." The tone in the exiled king's voice that was so out of place finally caused Kili to tentatively look his elder and guardian straight in the eyes. He would have had to be daft or just plain emotionless to not be surprised by what he saw in the pair of blue eyes that were so much like his brother's, yet so different at the same time.

The smoky, ice-blue eyes usually tinted with the haunting shadows of a dark past and guarded jealously like the entrance to a mighty citadel, were open like raw wounds and dripping with the pain of seeing someone close to them hurting and not knowing how they could take the pain away. Kili swallowed as he saw the tell-tale sheen covering them giving away the fact that his uncle was not as removed from emotions as he had thought. However, it was what had the cause of the unshed tears that made him nervous.

"Kili, what _happened_?" Thorin said, sounding both exasperated and concerned. His gaze was steady and unwavering as it bored into his youngest nephew's soul, as if he was trying to discover the youth's secrets by his sheer mental capability alone. Old, worn hands grasped for newer, fresher ones only to have the second pair tear away as the dwarf they belonged to hurriedly stood.

"No," Kili said, shaking his head all the while, "No, no, no." It was like the childish chant of one far younger than the brown-haired dwarf but in his panicked, crowded brain, the dwarfish archer could think of nothing else to say. Thorin stared at him, the slight frown reappearing on his brow, creasing the skin in between his eyebrows.

"Why not?" he asked, his frustration at his nephew's avoidance in giving him or any of the others an answer getting to him.

"No, just no," Kili repeated over and over, his hands now moving in wild gestures mimicking his wild pattern of speech and giving light to the wild look in his wide eyes. Thorin stood and bodily grabbed the young dwarf.

"Calm down," he ordered, trying to cease the torrent of panic that now held the brunette in its grip. Kili could not hear him though, continuing to mutter 'no' over and over as the images in front of him transformed to ones of a more vicious nature. Unlike in the conversation with his brother, Kili could not block the memories that were now flooding into his mind, brought on by suggestion of what had occurred. He was too worked up, too agitated, and too vulnerable and despairing at that point to rebuild the wall that had been holding them back. It was finally his uncle that saved him from the abusive scenarios in his mind.

The older dwarf held the young prince close, pulling him back down onto the seat and patiently waiting for the youth's trembling to stop. It was ages before it did and in that time, pressed against the warmth of his uncle's chest, Kili managed to mend the barrier between him and the memories. The large hand on the back of his head never ceased in carefully tangling itself in his hair.

"Kili, you need to tell someone. If not me or your brother, someone else, but just tell someone, for me. Please." Thorin pulled his nephew back and held him upright so the youth was looking into his eyes, seeing the sincerity of the words in his words even if he could not hear it in his voice. Kili looked away, turning his head to the side, eyes regrettable when he could not meet his kin's gaze. Thorin sighed and allowed the lad to drop back onto his chest.

Kili heard the sad, discouraged tone and felt his heart break, cracking just a little more than it already had, but he could not do what the dark-haired dwarf beseeched him to do. It was his burden to bear and he would bear it in whatever way he could, even if it meant keeping the truth of what had happened from his family. For him, talking about it would just make it worse, it would just make him have to acknowledge what had happened was real in every aspect; that the one responsible was still out there waiting to finish what he had started. And the fact that one of his friends or family could get in the way terrified him right down to the very core. It was better if they didn't know what might be coming for him, for them. With Azog already bitting at their heels, he knew the company did not need extra pressure to get to Erebor in time enough to stop Smaug and lay claim to the abandoned city.

* * *

Thorin came waltzing in to what could have been a funeral march, bearing the limp form of his slumbering nephew. The young dwarf still had not fully recovered his strength and was usually only awake for a short while before sleep took him again. They all agreed that he needed it though, especially if he wanted to continue with the journey which they all knew he would.

Secretly Bilbo thought it was all good for the company leader, being able to put Erebor on hold and think more about his nephews for a change. It had been in the past few days that the hobbit had seen Thorin spend the most time with the two youngsters, even if one had been mostly unconscious for over half the time. Still, he could not forget the look of pure fear that had been etched on the exiled king's face at the sight of Kili crumpled on the ground with a decapitated orc beside him, face white and Oin unknowing in what had caused his state of unresponsiveness.

He moved aside as the dwarf passed him and watched as Thorin disappeared into the room where Kili had spent most of his time residing in. Through the open door he caught a glimpse of the king laying down his nephew gently on the bed before walking back out, hesitating in the doorframe.

"I'll watch him," the hobbit heard himself offer and unless his eyes were deceiving him, the company leader shot him a small smile. He no doubt needed a break from keeping a watchful eye over the youngest of the company in case something happened.

Making his way into the room, Bilbo shut the door behind Thorin. He sat in the chair beside the human sized bed which did wonders to dwarf the dwarf with its massive size when compared to the youth which laid on it. The hobbit felt ridiculous as he too was dwarfed by the sparse furniture, with his feet dangling hilariously off the ground. If Kili was awake, he would most likely be laughing like he normally would. It was then Bilbo realised that he had not been in the room since the morning where the lad's other injuries were revealed.

This fact made the gentle hobbit to think back to what Fili had told them earlier on when Thorin had gone outside to try and convince his nephew where Fili had failed. Looking at the brunette, Bilbo wondered why he didn't just tell them what they wanted to know. Surely it would be easier to just get whatever it was he wanted to say off his chest. Then again, Kili had rarely done anything the easy way in all the time Bilbo had known him.

Easing back into the chair, Bilbo thought of what was left to come in the journey. No matter what anyone said, he did not believe the worst was now behind them, and knowing their luck, the hobbit would not be surprised if they were all turned into a very well done roast by the dragon. Without Gandalf to help them, they had about the same chance as the people of Dale did in fending off the dragon let alone killing, probably less if he was really being honest with himself.

The thought of Gandalf had Bilbo wondering why he had not yet returned. If the wizard had of been there, he would have been able to fix Kili in a jiffy. In fact, the whole Mirkwood fiasco probably would never have happened meaning that they would not be now confined to a small house in a city of men with him in an almost vacant room watching over the still sleeping Kili. Or maybe not for the young dwarf now seemed to be half awake.

"Do you need anything?" asked the hobbit kindly. Kili shook his head after registering what the hobbit had said.

"What time of day is it?" the beardless dwarf asked. Bilbo glanced out the window and blinked once in shook before turning back towards the occupied bed to answer the question.

"It's near evening," he said, still slightly shocked. Apparently he had been too buried in his thoughts to notice the passing of time. Kili didn't seem to mind.

"You alright in that oversized chair?" he heard the dwarf ask with what could be determined as forced cheer. Bilbo grinned at him.

"At least I look better than you. That bed seems to be swallowing you whole." This was said with a challenging stare.

"I may appear even shorter than before, but at least I do not look ridiculously small."

The banter continued on for some time and towards the end Kili's smiles actually appeared genuine. After, they just talked normally for a while, laughing at the imagined faces of the company as they were told they needed to spend more time confined to the house on both Thorin and Oin's orders.

"Seriously," Kili said, "I'm sorry for keeping you all here." Bilbo waved his hand at the suggestion.

"We all needed the rest after being pushed so hard by you uncle and with everything else that has happened," he said dismissively, "However, you could make it up to us by telling me what befell you while we were all separated."

Kili's mouth immediately clamped shut and his eyes roamed around the room looking at anything except for Bilbo. The company burglar sighed. Like the youth would tell him if he wouldn't even tell his own brother. The door opened and the hobbit welcomed the distraction. It was Oin.

"I'm just here to redress his wounds," said the healer. Bilbo nodded and moved away from the chair, hovering in one corner. Oin turned to him. "You can go if you like, I am sure I can manage Kili by myself if anything happens." Grateful for the opportunity to escape having to see the gashes littering the dwarf's chest again, Bilbo exited, leaving Oin to his own devices with Kili.

The hobbit looked up to find that everyone had seemed to have crowded in the one room. Fili shot him a look and he just shrugged, shaking his head silently. Sighing, the rest of the company turned away, going back to whatever they had been doing before. They had all been hoping that maybe Bilbo could get the answers so desired out of the stubborn dwarf. It seemed he could not. As the others departed, Fili came up to him.

"Don't worry, he'll have to tell sooner or later. If there's one thing my brother can't do it is keeping a secret to himself for a long time." Bilbo smiled at these words.

"Let's just hope that he tells someone sooner rather than later." Fili looked down at him as the hobbit finished speaking.

"Let's just hope that whatever it is, it won't break him like it would others," the blonde said darkly.

* * *

Oin looked at Kili, a sad expression etched upon his face as he worked on bandaging the other dwarf's arm back up.

"Kili…" he began once the door had closed and the last of the company had left. The brown-haired dwarf looked up at him.

"I am not telling you Oin, no matter how much you, Fili or anyone else begs. I just can't." Oin shook his head at this response, still saddened.

"That was not what I was going to say Kili, it was-"

Just at that moment, the door opened and then eased closed, but the force behind the event was not visible. The two dwarves stared at it for a few moments, minds churning as they tried to figure out who or what had disturbed the door before they turned back to face each other.

"Kili, I'm sorry but you are-"

"Hello," said a small voice beside then, causing Oin to unexpectedly clam up, lips tightly sealed together. Bilbo suddenly materialised in the air beside them, removing the ring that encompassed on of the three middle digits on his right hand and placing it in the pocket of his surprisingly still intact waistcoat.

"What the…?" Kili said, having had enough shock for one day. The hobbit smiled sheepishly at the pair of startled dwarves in front of him, both of whom were frowning.

"Bilbo!" Oin's voice was almost to the point of chastening the small hobbit for sneaking up on them like that.

"Well, I thought you know, I could surprise you, cheer you up maybe," said the guilty, looking down as he ran one toe of his hairy right foot along the ground.

"If you call giving me a heart attack cheering me up then I would say you succeeded," Kili told him, smiling down on the small figure as best he could through his exhaustion and the pain. Oin looked at him for a long moment before turning to Bilbo.

"Now that you're here, you might as well make yourself useful," the healer said not unkindly, "If you would be so good as to fetch me a fresh lot of bandages and maybe some medical supplies from around the town. Ask Bard if you need to." The hobbit took the hint and left.

Sighing, Oin turned back to his patient, the mournful expression from before perched upon his face again, being sure that the door had long since closed behind him before he resumed speaking. Kili wondered what it was that the dwarf had to say as the grey-haired being hesitated again as the words he wanted to part with formed on his lips.

"I am not entirely sure whether or not you know this, Kili, but I warn you that it may come as a shock to you if you don't, which I am assuming is the case." The old healer looked down on his patient and paused for a long while.

"Well," said Kili, beginning to grow apprehensive, "Spit it out then and get it over with." The healer bent down to his level and clasped the young dwarf's hands in his own. It was an even longer while before he opened his mouth to relay what information had been haunting his mind since the time he had discovered it, and when the healer did finally begin to speak, there was the ever emotional glint of wretchedness and despondency in his eyes that was usually only found present in the grief ridden eyes of a newly widowed wife or an abandoned child.

"I am very sorry to tell you this," he breathed in barely more than a whisper, "But you have been poisoned and I fear there is nothing I or anyone else can do about it."

Kili felt his heart skip a beat as this information sunk in.

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**Please review.**


	17. Die Young

**Unlike whatever you think the chapter title may be referring to, Kili does not die in this chapter (far from it). This story will not end for some chapters yet and the action is not over for I want to continue this right up until the BoFA (why else do you think he will go slowly?). Anyway, sorry for the long update but no promises as I'm rather busy at the moment between things I need to do and actually having a social life for once (sad I know). Enjoy and hopefully the next chapter will come soon as well as some more action and feels. **

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**Chapter 17: Die Young**

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"Poisoned?" asked Kili out of pure disbelief in what he had just heard. Oin nodded his head.

"And there is no cure. While at the scene where we found you I found no source of the toxin, I could guess by the smell of the wound on your arm. It is a mixture of poisons, some of the most deadly in all of Middle Earth; which ones though I know not. If the mixture is what I guessed it to be, then I am at a loss of what to do. This mixture usually kills its intended victim within a short period of time in an excruciatingly painful method."

Kili's head visibly reeled as he took this all in, his breathing increasing rapidly for a moment as he tried to understand what Oin was saying. The old healer bit his lip as he watched the youngster try and comprehend it all.

"Then why am I still alive?" he questioned, "Because the orc that gave me this scratch gave it to me days ago, meaning that, by all logical reasoning, I should be long dead by now." Oin nodded his head at this, agreeing.

"Yes, you should be, yet somehow the venom running through your veins has been stopped, momentarily anyway. It has not reached your heart or the rest of your internal organs. What has stopped it, I do not know, but the only thing capable would have to have been some healing spell known only to a select few."

The healer watched as his patient laid back on the bed, face a blank slate giving away no hints on what he was thinking. Oin could guess though; he had had the sad misfortune of having to tell several others their time would come far sooner than they had expected it to have had and the task was never easy. It was a while before either one of them opened their mouths, and in that time the old dwarf had allowed a guilt to swallow his soul, imaging the pain the youth would soon be subjected to.

"No cure…" Kili said suddenly, startling the elder of the two. He was only thinking out loud though. "No possible antidote exists in this lifetime." The brunette suddenly turned his head towards Oin. "I am going to die," he said simply. It killed the healer to know that he could not possibly refute this truth.

"Yes," he said softly, "One way or another, you will soon die. Though I know not how long until that final moment. The spell I have only heard of; I've never seen it actually used. You could have days, weeks maybe, possibly even several months if you are lucky (Kili snorted half-heartedly at this), but you will die sometime in the near future for not even magic can resist a poison on this level for long." To his credit, Kili did not breakdown at this news. He just drew in a shuddering breath and let his body go limp, resigning himself to his fate. After another short period of silence he spoke.

"You cannot tell anyone of this, not even Fili or Thorin." It was a statement, blunt and to the point with no sugar coating to take the edge away from the words. The force of the sentence left the grey-bearded healer speechless in shock for he had not been expecting this.

"But-" Oin made to protest only to have Kili cut him off.

"No," he said fiercely, suddenly grasping Oin's wrist, "You must promise me you will tell no one. It is my choice and my choice alone whether or not I will allow my friends and family to bear this burden and I choose to keep this information from them as long as possible."

"But they are your family," Oin argued, "Fili and Thorin only have you and each other. It is not fair to them if you keep this a secret."

"And it would not be fair if I kept them awake at night because of this knowledge," Kili shot back.

"They will suffer from more than just nightmares once they see you in the grips of the poison, unknowing in what is causing your pain. It would shatter them to see you laid so low." It was good and sound reasoning. Unfortunately, Kili was well adapt to manipulating the stern words of another to go in his favour.

"I have not succumbed to the effects of the poison yet," Kili said with an almost unwavering determination to convince the elder to see his side, 'And their last memories of me should be happy ones. How can they view me in more joyful times if they themselves are haunted by my grave that is drawing ever closer?" The grey-bearded dwarf bowed his head, giving in being unable to think of an argument to counter the one just thrown at him.

"I swear not to reveal this without your consent unless," he said, staring Kili straight in the eye, "There is no choice or an opportunity presents itself to heal you once and for all." The brunette could not argue with this.

"Very well, it is a promise," he said, shaking his hand firmly with Oin once, sealing the deal.

It went against Oin's nature as a healer to not be able to tell the family of a loved one what was wrong with them, but between Kili's torture and long bought of unconsciousness, he had to agree that it might not have been the best time anyway, not with them so close to their goal. But still.

"You must promise me something in return, young Kili," he said suddenly, pulling his hand away from his patient's and grasping the young dwarf by his shoulders, "Do not put yourself in danger unless it is absolutely necessary. Unless it is a life and death situation and every other path has been exhausted, let us do the work. You are already going to die young, so do not let yourself die any younger than you have to. That in itself would be a cruelty, not only to you, but the rest of us as well."

The sad yet understanding look Kili gave him was all the assurance he needed, but he knew deep down in his heart, that if push came to shove Kili would still rather have his own life taken then any one of company's and the lad tended to act rashly whenever it came down to a case like that, especially if it involved his brother or uncle. And though it would break him to see one so young fall, Oin couldn't help but acknowledge it would be a much more merciful death if Kili were to die at the hands of a blade or arrow then what he feared would eventually come to pass.

* * *

Bilbo leaned against the door confused. Coming back up the steps he had heard the last part of a conversation that had obviously been going on between the only two dwarves inside.

_"You are already going to die young, so don't let yourself die any younger than you have to."_

What in all of Middle Earth had Oin meant by that? Something quite serious obviously judging from the tone of his voice. Even Kili wouldn't have been able to detect a hint of jokiness in it. He decided to knock before entering and a slightly shaky, emotional voice answered.

"Enter," said the company healer and the hobbit obeyed. Upon the bed, Kili cast him a smile that somehow just seemed too much; of what Bilbo didn't know, but it was just too much.

"Since when do you ever knock Mister Boggins?" he asked in good jest. Bilbo stared at him. "What, do I have something on my face?" The hobbit shook his head, still unsure whether or not he should mention what he had heard. A few moments later and he had shaken the idea clear of his head; it had obviously been a private conversation. Still, he was intrigued.

"Here, I brought what you asked," he said, turning towards Oin. The healer graced him with a warm smile.

"Thank you very much indeed, my good fellow," he said in a polite, formal tone almost matching Dori's, almost. Bilbo had to stifle a laugh and from the sounds of it, Kili was thinking along the same lines as he accidentally let slip a loose chortle. Oin flashed him a look at him, the corners of his lips twitching as if he had known who he had sounded like and had talked in that way on purpose.

"Do you require any further assistance?" Bilbo asked. Oin shook his head.

"No, I'm just about finished here, but I am sure that my patient would enjoy the company seeing as he needs to still regain his strength and in order to do that he must rest." If Bilbo didn't know better, he would have thought that a darker undertone of Oin's voice floated through the dwarf's usual straight forward manner. The hobbit thought nothing much of it, yet he would have been a fool to not notice the fact that something had appeared to have passed between Kili and the healer. He watched as Oin gathered the medical supplies and left through the door, closing it behind him like always.

"So, do you feel like talking yet?" the hobbit asked after a lengthy pause of silence. Seeing the dwarf's face he held up his hands. "Just kidding, I am only here to stop you going mad from boredom." Kili snorted.

"I doubt that is even possible," he said, "I'll be dead from the vicious disease before you can even blink your eyes." Bilbo decided to go along with the dwarf's humour.

"Ah, what a terrible way to go," he replied with a mock seriousness, "I'll be sure to mourn your passing. I'll even have a handkerchief made to commemorate your memory." Kili shuddered in a pretence of sheer horror.

"Ah, no, anything but that!" he exclaimed while trying to hold back a laugh at the same time.

"I'll make it a pink-tinged white and decorate it with little embroidered flowers and lace and everything else that is good and dainty, and I'll wash it at least twice a day in remembrance of the brave battle you fought with boredom to the death." The company burglar was painting quite an image in his own head whilst moving his hands to illustrate what he was saying as best as he could to the dwarf in front of him.

"I would rather death by drinking a large tankard of Dori's tea then be remembered by a handkerchief," Kili said, holding his sides as he gasped for breath at Bilbo's antics but he hobbit wouldn't stop.

"But surely to die for something at least as honourable as a handkerchief to be made in your name is all the glory you would want. I do believe drinking one sip of Dori's tea, let alone a whole tankard, would be taking it a step too far. Not even the prospect of death by boredom would surely drive one to such a terrible fate," the hobbit said in a faked confusion.

"Death itself would be a relief from the humiliation that would come with such a commemoration," Kili argued back.

"What is all this talk of death, dying and handkerchiefs?" asked a new voice. Both guilty parties jumped and swivelled around to face the newcomer.

"We were discussing the various prospects of me dying of boredom right now," answered the brunette. It was clear from the way the two dwarves were acting that they were still uncomfortable around each other, at least Kili was anyway. Fili frowned at him, puzzled.

"I see how that relates to the first two, but what has it got to do with handkerchiefs?" he asked. It was Bilbo that answered this time.

"I was telling him that if he did indeed die of boredom I would make him a commemorative handkerchief." At that, Fili burst out laughing.

"I knew there was a reason why we brought you along," he said, wiping a tear from his eye. Bilbo too was chortling, somewhat relieved that it hadn't been Thorin who had caught them joking about death. Kili was to only one who stayed sullenly silent. "Come on brother, you were laughing before." The brown-haired dwarf, however, ignored the blonde. Bilbo glanced almost warily between them.

"Should I go?" he asked, not wanting to intrude on an issue between brothers and to become involved, or more involved than he had to anyway. Fili shook his head.

"I'm sure that's not necessary," he said, staring at his sibling who was still acting like he was occupied with pulling a thread out of the blanket that covered him, "Is it, Kili."

"No, not necessary at all," the young dwarf repeated almost mechanically, not looking up at all while he said it. The other two stared at him, eyebrows raised. It seemed like something was upsetting the brunette and from the looks of it, Fili knew what it was. Bilbo also had a slight suspicion and he thought it would be better to leave the two of them to work it out.

"I'll just see if anything needs doing," he said, excusing himself from the room all the while shooting Fili a grim smile, "There's always something your uncle wants done; something he is complaining that needs to be finished or prepared." The blonde dwarf smiled just as grimly back at him.

"That sounds about right," he said. And with that, Bilbo closed the door behind him to lend the two brothers some privacy.

* * *

"Kili, look at me," Fili said quietly after the hobbit had left them. The younger of the two ignored him. "Kili…"

"What?" asked the brunette without looking up, "Why do you want to speak to me?" Fili swallowed, unsure whether his brother was angry at him or himself.

"You're my brother and besides, I want to talk about earlier today," he told Kili softly.

"Why? That conversation was messed up just about as bad as it could get, curtsy to the idiot who just had to open his mouth and speak." Any doubt that Fili had before about Kili's problem being himself was wiped away by the tone of self-loathing the youth was using.

"Well, we're all idiots at some point in time," the blonde dutifully pointed out, "Even uncle makes regrettable mistakes." The brown-haired dwarf snorted as his brother said this.

"I find that hard to believe. And you, you always know when to take the right course of action. Neither of you are idiots, in fact, you're just the opposite."

Fili frowned at this and sat on the bed next to his brother. To his immense relief, the other didn't pull away or bury in on himself further even going so far as to allow the blonde to wrap one arm around his shoulder.

"What is this really about?" he asked, frowning at Kili's bowed head and the hair covering his face, "Because surely you would not just keep what happened a secret from us, not when even _Thorin_ has literally _begged_ you to depart with whatever horrors you have seen. Come on, you have always told me everything."

"Not this time." Kili's reply was hard and blunt. This did not deter his brother.

"Kili, at least tell me. Come on, you owe me that much for scaring me like that when we found you not even five paces away from the headless, monstrous orc beside you." This evoked a response out of the dwarf beside him, though not quite the response that Fili had been hoping for.

"That bastard is dead?" Kili asked in disbelief, dark eyes staring right into his brother's blue ones. The elder of the two was taken aback.

"Yes," he said slowly, "Long dead without the slightest chance of coming back unless he can somehow grow a new head." At this, Kili slumped onto his brother's shoulder, breathing a somewhat shaky sigh of relief as he closed his eyes. A wave of rage again swept through Fili at the orc as he found himself again wishing the foul excuse for a being was still alive if only so he could slowly and painfully extract his revenge. "You didn't know he was dead?"

Kili shook his head, "No. Which one of you killed him?"

"That's the thing," said Fili, suddenly thoughtful, "None of us did. When we found you and him lying on the ground together we all just assumed ̶ well, most of us anyway ̶ that you had been the one to finish him off. I mean, there was no one else around."

Now that he thought about it, Fili realised he didn't know who to owe his thanks to for most likely saving his brother's life. If Kili had not killed the orc and had been knocked unconscious before any such event happened, the orc most likely would have ripped him from limb to limb. The blonde had no gotten a good look at the body except to determine that its head was indeed dispatched from its body, though he did vaguely remember there being an arrow buried somewhere in the corpse's throat. Maybe an elf had chanced across the fighting pair…but no, that was impossible. Why would an elf risk their own life to save a dwarf's?

"Well I definitely didn't kill that bastard, I would have remembered." Fili looked down at his brother as the brunette finished his sentence.

"Why were you so scared that he was alive anyway?" he asked. Kili's face suddenly became impassive, impossible for his brother to read what he was thinking.

"What makes you say that?" he shot back. The blonde was not fooled.

"Before, when I told you he was dead you were relieved. Why? What did he do to you?"

"You know very well what he done to me," came Kili's dark reply.

"Then why won't you tell me about it?" Fili asked, an opening into the missing events of his brother's life opening for a second time that day.

"He tortured me. That's all there is to say."

"How did he catch you?" asked Fili, thrilled that he had gotten his brother to admit what had passed, albeit not in any great detail. Kili threw his hands up, growing defensive.

"What has that got to do with anything?" he said, his words and tone of voice containing some bite to them, "Why are you worrying about something that has already happened, something you can't change? We have not finished this journey yet, and the danger is far from over. If you lose focus now, who knows what you'll miss; a secret entry, a stray burst of flames, an orc brandishing a swiftly descending sword behind you to slip through your ribs. You being obsessed by something could very well result in your death or another's, and in this state of non-reality you're in, you could suddenly wake up and see the cold, pale face of someone you love long passed this world staring right back at you without a glint of recognition."

Fili stared at his brother for some time, more concerned about what he had said in the last part than the exaggerated outburst overall. He moved so that he could see Kili's eyes clearly and opened his mouth to speak his thoughts, "What do you mean I could suddenly 'wake' and see a loved one already past saving? You know very well that nothing could ever stop me from saving you or Thorin from the jaws of death, and that no sickness of the mind, least of all an unhealthy obsession over a lesser matter would ever cloud my judgement of what is truly important." If anything, Kili became more withdrawn and wary.

"I just meant to say that instead of worrying over me and trivial matters you cannot change, you should be taking the time to enjoy every minute you can with the people you know. You should just drop the subject. The one who did this is dead, and has been for a while, and, to use your own words, unless he can regrow a head, there is no way in Mahal that he is coming back," the brunette finished. Fili looked at him, still frowning slightly.

"Are you not telling me something, Kili?"

"What would I keep from you? You are my brother, Fili." The look in the younger dwarf's eyes was open and honest, yet Fili could not help but notice in the far depths they were guarded jealously, just as their uncle's usually were. Still, he knew his brother and was sure that if there was anything of significance, he would tell him.

"Alright, I believe you. Just, if there is anything, tell me. I would hate to find out you came to some sort of harm by keeping a secret not worth your life." The golden-haired prince was solemn as he said this. Little did he know the effect his words would have on his brother or how they would indeed come to be remembered in the very near future. For now, however, he thought of it no more as he stood, stretching after sitting cross-legged with his brother leaning on him for so long. "Now that's sorted, I suggest you rest. I'm sure Thorin will want to leave as soon as he can," Fili said. Kili smiled up at him somewhat timidly.

"I'm sorry for snapping out at you this morning," he said at last. Fili regarded him with a fond look.

"Well, given the circumstances, I suppose you can be forgiven," the blonde replied, "I think you just forgot that I'm your brother and whatever harm you find befalling you, I will be there to stop it if I can." And that was the key; _if I can_. The blonde had already faced one such scenario where he could do nothing to help his brother. He had no idea what he would do if he faced a scenario like that again.

* * *

Thorin looked at the arrow in his hands carefully. Though he had been surprised, he was grateful for the intervention of the blonde elf he had sent after his nephew and the female captain. No doubt without him, they would have most likely found Kili in pieces strew across the clearing or crushed beneath the feet of the orcish leader. With one last glance at the arrow, Thorin wrapped it carefully in some spare rags and deposited it in the pack he was to carry after acquiring several more off Bard. If the chance presented itself, Thorin swore he would return the arrow to its master, elf or no elf, he owed the being that much.

* * *

**Could you review, please. It lets me know you're enjoying my story and I would appreciate it very much. **


	18. Fear

**Sorry about the long update, but my laptop decided it wanted to throw a tantrum and wasn't working for a few days, and between that I had a tone of stuff needing doing and sort of struggled with ideas for this one. I know this is probably one of my worse chapters, but it is necessary as I needed to from one point to another in one chapter (a filler chapter that I had no idea how to write) and get a move on with my story. Reviews would be much appreciated (they let me know that you actually like the story) and sometimes they can help with ideas. I swear my next chapter will be better and it should contain some more action than some of my previous chapters. The end should not be far off, depending on how the next few updates go and where the story flows. Sorry for the short chapter but I didn't really want to mangle it more plus I wanted to get onto the next one quickly to make up for the poor updating.**

* * *

**Chapter 18: Fear**

* * *

Kili watched the company begin to pack the few bags they had been given along with the fewer provisions, half of which the hobbit had almost begged for. All the while, Oin watched him. The rest of the company would just think he was keeping a careful eye over his patient and in a way he was. It was just that it was not for the reason they would have thought.

The half deaf dwarf turned to his brother, accepting the fair sized roll of bandages that the younger dwarf was handing him. He placed the supplies in the small, leather bag and then gestured towards his ears. "What was that again?" Gloin smiled at him, shaking his head as he did so.

"I asked if you needed anything else," said the ginger-beared warrior. Oin shook his head.

"That should be everything, unless I am forgetting something." He smiled back at his brother, the expression quickly dying as he saw the concern that had replaced the ginger dwarf's own grin.

"Is he strong enough to come?" Gloin asked, leaning in. There was no need to inquire as to who the healer's brother was talking about. Oin followed the younger warrior's gaze just as Dwalin started swearing at the brown-haired youth for causing the straps on the pack he was supposed to be carrying to detach themselves from the bag which then disposed its contents across the floor. The others all held back their chortles for they knew well that Kili was untouchable until the time that Oin said he had recovered enough to deal with the more aggressive side of the dwarves he annoyed and no one wanted to risk Oin's anger, something that Kili was bound to take advantage of for as long as he could.

The brunette was just about as well as he could get at the moment, everything considered. It had been a couple of days between now and when he had told the youth about his…issue regarding his long term health. Durin's beard, what kind of healer was he when he couldn't even say what was wrong with Thorin's youngest nephew outright?

Thorin…he had been the one who had finally made the decision his nephew was well enough to travel after waking to find the dwarfish archer had decided to relieve his boredom by taking the time to dust his uncle (and several others) with every cobweb he could find as well as blackening the faces of the sleeping dwarves with soot from the fireplace in one of the rooms leading those unfortunate enough to have been in his path to think for a short while they were back in Mirkwood caught by the spiders. Gloin almost had an all-out panic attack but quickly realised that the mortifying event had long since passed. After the incident, it had soon been established that either they finish the last leg of their journey or reside in the overly crowded house for a few more days with an overactive dwarf that, while not as exuberant as he had been before, could still cause a lot of turmoil amongst the company. There had been no need to put it to a vote, all of them knowing what the outcome would be.

Oin knew that his brother had not been the only one to question his patient's well-being. Fili and Thorin had naturally been the first to inquire the grey-bearded healer's opinion on the matter, and Bilbo to had displayed concern. The others had not been so open, yet Oin knew they also housed discomfort at the prospect of facing danger with Kili in tow. Oin, keeping to Kili's wishes and knowing in the fact that the young dwarf needed something to occupy his mind, had responded to each question posed to him with an optimism he hoped would not be proved wrong.

* * *

Thorin watched his youngest nephew as he sat smiling beside his brother who was organising some supplies in a pack. Dwalin was still sulking after not being able to do anything to extract his revenge on the young dwarf who shot him cheeky grins every now and then. But low behold the time when Oin gave the all clear. Kili would definitely suffer for a short while at the old warrior's hand for Dwalin was one who could bear a grudge to the grave.

The exiled king smothered a smile at this, he himself looking forward to when he could play it rough with his wild heir. Sometimes he was thankful that the elder of his sister's sons was a lot more coolheaded and logical in his thinking. The one thing he could not hid, however, was his fear that something should happen to the young lad before they finished the journey. _Or rather_, he thought grimly, _something else would happen to him._

* * *

"What's with the long look?" Kili asked, elbowing his brother in the ribs. The blonde dwarf blinked at him before opening his mouth to answer the question.

"Nothing, I'm just worried, that's all." Fili continued to stare at his brother from the corner of his eye. Kili continued to smile winningly back at him.

"Worried about what?" the brunette asked, "I seriously doubt some orc or goblin filth will dare try to stop our uncle now." This, however, did not lessen the anxious expression across his elder brother's face. "What is up with you?" This earned him a sudden and unexpected frown.

"You," Fili said quietly but firmly.

"Me?" Kili said, eyebrows raised and voice a little louder than his brother's. The young prince hastened to fix this. "Me?" he said again, albeit more softly this time. Fili nodded, frown still etched upon his brow.

"You," he said, eyes piercing his sibling's, "I am worried that more harm will befall you than what already has." Kili laughed softly at this.

"I doubt that is possible," he said lightly, yet bitterly. The words, understandably, did not comfort the blonde.

"Kili, you could have died! That bastard could have killed you and we would have gotten there too late to do anything about it. What is more, he hurt you before and no one was around to save you from that fate." If Fili had been agitated before, it had only increased in the few sentences he had let loose.

Fate. Kili snorted, he had had enough of fate.

"Fate has nothing to do with it," he said quickly, "And when I tell you nothing worse can befall me, then nothing worse can befall me. Why can't you see that?"

Fili paused in his tampering with a pack and gave the beardless dwarf a long, hard look.

"Because you are my brother," he said slowly, "My younger brother who I have sworn to keep safe from harm."

Kili bit his lip as his brother turned to finish with the task at hand. It hurt him to keep something from Fili, but it would hurt him even more to see his older sibling share the same pain as he would no doubt suffer. Right now, his best defence was to not think about it. So he didn't.

"I think you take your job of looking after me way too seriously, both you and Thorin," he said after a moment. Fili looked like he was about to snap a retort, anger welling up inside of him, but Kili held up his hands in a sign of peace. " I know, I know. I understand that I'm the youngest, but honestly, if you two are always hovering around me, how can I look after you if you need looking after? Truth is I can't."

The older dwarf in front of him lowered his gaze, but only for a brief moment. It was back up, staring at him before Kili could even blink.

"You shouldn't have to. And with you still not fully healed, I don't think _any_ of the company will be allowing you within twenty paces of danger." This statement, while blunt was true and the brunette smiled almost darkly at it.

"We are going into the lair of a _dragon_ Fili, I doubt that will be a feat that any of you can achieve," he disagreed. Unfortunately for the blonde, he was right.

"I suppose if Oin's sure your fine…" he said wearily, giving in. Kili flashed him a smile and pocked him playfully in the ribs again.

"Don't worry, I am not that easy to get rid of. I'll be here for a while yet." Just how long that while was, Kili didn't know.

* * *

**Please review. Next chapter will be longer. If it's not, you have my permission to chew me out.**


	19. The Last Leg

**Alright, update took a little longer than I wanted but not as long as last time. And just as promised, a longer chapter. Not much action in this but next chapter, enter Smaug. **

**I may have gotten the town in which Bard lives in wrong, so forgive me for that blunder.**

* * *

**Chapter 19: The Last Leg**

* * *

They had been walking for a while and already Kili's legs were beyond tired. Not that he would admit it, though he was sure that Oin knew something was up. The way the healer kept on staring at him, what else could it be?

"You sure you're alright?" asked Fili.

"You sure you don't want me to shut you up?" Kili replied without hesitation. His brother held up his hands.

"Hey, I just don't think you should be pushing yourself at the moment," the blonde defended, explaining his constant harassment of the young dwarf over the same topic. Kili shook his head.

"I think you're still vengeful from what I pulled on you just before we left," he said, smirking. Fili's face betrayed nothing.

"You know me better than that," he replied, hands spread wide open, "I would never hold a grudge against you unlike two certain brooding dwarves we both know." He jerked his head subtlety but pointedly towards where Thorin and Dwalin were walking.

"Mm-hmm," Kili responded, voice dripping with sarcasm, "Right. Like you would forget me attaching one of your braids to a tree while we were resting on Oin's orders and forgetting to mention it when you got up to race ahead again."

"You could have torn a perfectly good patch of hair out by the roots!"

"That's what Thorin said," Kili told his brother, sly grin still spread across his face, "And yet I don't see the point you two are trying to make. It was your own fault you dashed ahead so fast."

"One of these days…" Fili muttered under his breath much to his companion's delight. He knew from experience that once Kili was in this mood, it was a hard task to draw him out of it, just like it was with any other mood the youth felt.

"If you two clowns are done, you can help Dwalin," Thorin grunted as he stalked past the pair, still disgruntled about the fact that he could not properly scare his younger nephew into keeping him out of whatever dastardly plans the brunette was thinking up. The brothers turned back towards the taller dwarf who was wincing as he shifted the pack on his shoulders.

"Oh no, you stay away from me," he said as he looked up, pointing at Kili in the process seeming to recall what had happened earlier that morning. The beardless dwarf just smiled at him and fell into step with the company healer, searching for something else he could dwell on.

"How are you holding up?" he heard Oin inquire. He hesitated for a moment, unsure of what to say exactly.

"Alright I suppose," he said finally, not sure if that quite covered what he was feeling.

"Do you need to stop?"

"No."

"Kili," came Oin's stern voice, one that discouraged any form of bravado that the younger dwarf might try to hide behind.

"No," repeated Kili just as powerfully. They stared at each other for several moments before Oin finally broke his gaze.

"Well, Thorin will be pleased."

Kili gave Oin a questioning look. "Why?" he asked curiously. The healer pointed ahead.

"They be the statues that guard the entrance to Erebor."

The whole company stood back, in awe of the majestic sight before them. Two giant dwarves, carved skilfully out of what seemed like one section of stone each, kneelt at the entrance as if they were bowing to whoever would enter through the massive pair of doors behind them. They were dressed in suits of armour, ones that Thorin had described to Kili and his brother when they were old enough to be told of the destruction of Smaug, and they both bore formidable looking axes and just as formidable looking expressions. They were the guardians of the great city, the two lone sentries that had been abandoned for so long. But no more.

The pair were, however, dwarfed in brilliance by the set of doors behind them. Balconies ran above the two grey-green doors which were absolutely ginormous. Again the skilful craftsmanship that made them was shown, but they seemed desolate and dark, and the balconies above were painfully empty. It made it look as if the very city itself was crying out in despair to be rescued and rebuilt to its former glory. Kili felt the others shift uncomfortably beside him.

"I'm glad we're not using that door," Bofur said in an attempt to break the silence, "It looks kind of foreboding."

"Foreboding or not it may be our only chance to retake the city if the other door does not show itself tonight," Thorin stated, his face curiously blank and smooth of any emotion, but deep in his eyes Kili could see an age old excitement gleaming with anticipation.

"I'm guessing we will be camping here then until such time as the moon chooses to present itself," Dwalin commented, his voice gruff and somewhat gloomy. His older brother turned to flash him a smile.

"Why you are correct," Balin smiled, "That just goes to show you can use those brains of yours." This earned him a black look and a vow of vengeance as the others in the company tried not to show their glee at this comment. Thorin did not join in the fun, rather he just stared broodily up at the mountain.

"Finally," Kili heard him say to himself so quietly it was almost inaudible, "We are almost home."

The brunette turned back to look up at the mountain in awe, acting as if he had not seen the watery sheen to his proud uncle's eyes.

* * *

The group camped by the foot of one of the giant sentries. Bofur and Nori were sitting on the toe of the statue's boot, looking at their surroundings and taking everything in. Ori sat beside them, head bent, diligently scratching a quill across the pages of one of his books.

It was almost evening and a chill had set in over the air, a chill which had managed to stiffen the bones of both Kili and a couple of the older dwarves. Dwalin muffled a laugh as Balin plodded past trying in a vain attempt to stretch his back. Revenge, it seemed, was just as sweet as it had always been.

The seasoned warrior watched his king, his leader as the dark-haired dwarf fidgeted, seeming unable to be still for a moment at a time. He smothered a laugh at this too, for the usually stoic and anti-bouncing dwarf reminded him so much of the two much younger nephews the former dwarf had continually told off from irritating him with their constant antics. The pair however, brunette and blonde, were however almost ominously quiet, seeming to have switched personalities with their uncle. Dwalin could not mistake the sly gleam in their eyes as they watched Thorin pace around and the warrior would not be surprised if they brought up the subject at a later date.

"What are you thinking brother?" he heard Balin ask as the older dwarf sidled up next to him. Dwalin did not move his gaze from the three dwarves of line of Durin.

"That Thorin is going to be given a hard time of it sooner or later."

Beside him, Balin chuckled. "Ah, yes. No doubt his nephews will have something to say about his impatience and almost childlike behaviour at this current moment," he said with a soft grin, "The younger one especially. Durin knows how many times he has had his uncle tell him off for not sitting completely still when he is working, thinking, or hung-over."

The pair watched the company before them for some time, just content to sit and mull over their own private thoughts. Both were glad to have made it this far without the loss of a group member, yet they were somewhat apprehensive as far as facing the dragon went, unsure whether or not it would be worth the effort to reclaim the city if someone lost their lives, especially one of the younger ones.

They cheerfully accepted bowls of stew from Bofur who was battling Bombur away from the pot the men had loaned them at the same time. Drinking the brew, Dwalin tried not to grimace at the less than satisfactory taste. Never the less, it was better than anything he could cook by far. The toymaker definitely knew how to get one's tastebuds stirring, so much so that the dwarf with the floppy-eared hat was now fending off three dwarves instead of just one as Bombur, Nori and Fili all tried to sneak another bowlful. Kili just sat back and laughed, watching as his brother was walloped over the head with a ladle they had also borrowed from the Bard for the third time that evening.

_It's a wonder the lad's still trying_, Dwalin mused. He supposed it was to partly amuse his brother who he had seen a distant look in a few times that day when the lad had been off on his own or those around him had been distracted by something else. A few times he had seen Oin wander up to him, talking quietly before backing off. What the pair talked about, Dwalin didn't know, but he would have to be stupid to not think it was about the boy's health.

Privately resolving to keep a closer eye on the youngest if the company ̶ if only to be sure no more pranks were pulled on him for which he could not get back at the lad for ̶ Dwalin leaned back and tried sneak in some small amount of sleep before Thorin had them up and moving at an impeccable rate again. Luck was not on his side however and no sooner than he had closed his eyes the shouts started.

* * *

Bilbo watched in awe as light of the moon struck the rocky wall above their sentry's head. The sight was only visible for a mere few moments before it had disappeared but that was all the company needed; they now knew where the secret door to Erebor lied which signified the beginning of the end of the journey. Not that the hobbit was sad about this, after all, he was a Baggins and a Hobbit and he would be glad when all this madness was over… _That's right, just keep myself in denial,_ Bilbo thought as he looked over at the company.

The adventurous fellow had fashioned a close bond between each of the dwarves, some more so than others. Thorin for one was still rather aloof with the hobbit, though not as aloof as he had once been. Ori, on the other hand, had warmed up to him somewhat, always the curious yet just that little timid person. Each had their own unique personality and their own unique way with dealing with the hobbit. If he was being perfectly honest with himself, he would have to admit that he would miss the dwarves, and Gandalf if the wizard ever decided to show up again.

"What's got you down?" a young and cheery voice asked beside him. Bilbo turned to face the brunette.

"Just thinking that the journey will soon be over and I will soon have to return to my hobbit hole," he sighed, "I think I will miss all your company, or most of you anyway." This earned a snort of Kili.

"Thorin does not always impress well on others. He's too stoic for his own good, but don't let him hear you say that. Last time he heard me, the old dwarf chased me up a tree, though it may have been because I implied that I thought he wouldn't be able to hear me saying it to Fili."

"Yes," laughed his brother as he came up behind his brown-haired sibling, "He thought, for some strange reason, that you were actually implying he was deaf. You were dodging around him for weeks afterwards. I wouldn't let him hear you call him old either. I'm sure one lesson learnt already is enough." The blonde was elbowed in the ribs good-humouredly by his brother.

"Well, he should be in good enough humour to let that small comment slip past if he did hear it," Kili responded to Fili's light banter, "After all, is this not the moment he has been waiting for?"

"You are right their lads," Balin answered, sneaking up behind them as was the old dwarf's way when it took his fancy, "And I hope he has the sense not to climb that statue before dawn either."

"Not all of Durin's line are so careless," answered the company leader in what could have been taken as a jest towards his nephews.

"No," Balin laughed, "Just the majority of them, usually the youngest." This ended with undignified shouts of denial of the two brothers beside him but Balin had not yet finished. "Unfortunately, the same can be said about my own family." The curse Dwalin sent at the white-bearded dwarf had the others in stiches at his reaction. Balin just smiled down at his younger sibling.

"You know that's not true, Balin," the seasoned warrior growled. Balin nodded his head.

"Yes," Bilbo heard him say, "You are not so much careless as lacking in basic common sense."

"At least I can hear what someone is saying without having to ask them to repeat themselves."

"What are you saying?" Oin interjected, "That being deaf is a bad thing?"

"Well," Gloin said, shooting a meaning look towards his elder, "Eventually you older folks will have to give in and allow us younger fellows to take the lead on things." Nori snorted at this causing Dori to round on him.

"Do you find this funny?" the usually calm dwarf asked hotly. And with that started what could have been the thousandth argument the dwarves had had since Bilbo had joined them if the hobbit had been bothered to count.

"Alright," roared Thorin, finally regaining control over the unruly bunch, "I suggest you all get some sleep right now or else suffer the consequences of having to wake up at the break of dawn tomorrow." The others, not surprisingly, obeyed him.

So it was at dawn that they all awoke, any hint that the argument last night had taken place gone, covered over by the anticipation that each member of the company bore. Slowly they all climbed up the statue, Bilbo losing his footing a few times and having to be pulled back to safety by Kili who was just ahead of him. After the second time the hobbit had realised that the young dwarf's face looked slightly strained but when he had inquired about it, the youth had just brushed it off, saying he was still tired from being woken so early.

AT last they reached the top of the sentry and the rocky shelf beyond it. They had all just turned to stare at the door when a loud rumbling sound akin to the roar of a mighty beast shook the mountain.

"What was that?" Ori asked, clinging tightly to his slingshot and glancing around in fear.

"That, my lad," Balin answered, "Was a dragon."

* * *

**Next chapter; Smaug-Bilbo interaction, and definitely more action (or at least I'm hoping - will probably be long). **

**As always, please review. I enjoy getting them.**


	20. Smaug

**Sorry for the long update. The quality of this chapter may not be the best, but I was not sure how to do the Smaug and Bilbo interactions. Hope you like the next chapter.**

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**Chapter 20: Smaug**

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"A dragon…" Bilbo trailed, repeating what the eldest and probably the wisest dwarf of the company had said. Even all his time with a bunch of dwarves always broaching the topic (even if it was to only see if he would faint again) had not prepared him for this moment.

"Yes, a dragon," Balin answered wiping away any doubts Bilbo had as to whether he had heard the dwarf wrong, and the grumbling mood of the rest of the company with it. They all just stood there in shock.

"Mahal…" Dwalin said, finally breaking the silence. Bofur looked at him.

"I guess that about sums it up," he said, the poor attempt to lighten the mood dying as the words left his mouth. The atmosphere was crackling with tension between them as another roar shook the ground between their feet before dying down. They all stared at the door.

"Who's going in?" asked Ori who was trying hard not to let his chattering teeth show. Thorin's face retook its almost impassive, emotionless mask but it was Balin who answered.

"That would be our burglar," he said with an averse tone, "It is, after all, why we brought him along." Everyone turned to face Bilbo who's mind was screaming no at the very thought of stepping a foot through the doorway.

"I guess I'll be meeting your resident dragon then," he said in what was a second failed attempt of humour that day.

"Don't worry, Fili and I'll go with you," Kili smiled. Fili nodded his head, agreeing and Bilbo felt a pang in his heart. He knew it wasn't that they knew how dangerous this was but the fact that they knew he was afraid. Such friends he wasn't sure he had ever had. The others agreed to the idea though Thorin looked uncomfortable and Oin like he wanted to say something but had thought better of it at the last moment. Soon enough, the three of them were standing in front of the door ready to enter the mountain which had been abandoned for over eighty years. None of the three had ever set foot here.

"Do not take any unnecessary risks," said Thorin and Bilbo had the feeling the question was more so directed at the younger of the two dwarves beside him than either Kili's brother or himself. Whichever way it was, both brother's flashed reassuring smiles to their uncle. And then they stepped forward with Bilbo in tow and pushed the door, all three falling on the other side as it slammed behind them.

* * *

The three cautiously picked themselves up and glanced back at the door.

"Well, it's reassuring to know it's still there," Kili said, unsure of how they were going to open it from this side as he could see no visible handle.

"How are we going to get out?" asked Bilbo, ever the practical one. He wanted a passage out and he wanted it now in case anything went wrong.

"Never mind that now," Fili said, looking ahead, "Let's see what we have to deal with." The other two followed the blonde down the rocky tunnel. Kili could feel Bilbo's gaze on his back.

"What is it?" he hissed at the small being softly, not wanting to alert his brother.

"You sure you're alright?" the hobbit asked. He sounded just like his brother, in fact, the words were exactly the same. So much for being original.

"Yes, why do you ask?" He snapped, glancing warily at Fili in case his impressive hearing picked any of this up. There was no need for his brother to worry.

"It's just that you look sort of tired," Bilbo replied, somewhat startled by the way he had been snapped at before. Kili looked at him.

"Look, I told you I just didn't get enough sleep last night. Now leave it, will you."

"Leave what?" Fili asked, backing up a few steps as the other two unwittingly caught up to him. Kili just stared at his brother, refusing to give anything away.

"Do we not have a job to do here?" he asked in what could have been aptly mistaken for a condescending tone. He felt Fili's gaze bore into the back of his head before the elder of the two picked up his pace and walked forward, moving ahead of him and Bilbo. It was not long, however, until they reached the end of the rather lengthy and dreary tunnel.

"Wow…" gasped the hobbit beside him. 'Wow' didn't seem to cover it.

They came out into the open air and saw the magnificence of what had once been a thriving city. Up on the balcony of one of the upper-middle levels, they gazed down on the sight below them and suddenly felt like tiny specks of dust.

"I do believe you dwarves build things so big to make up for your size," Bilbo said half-jokingly as they continued to stare down the massive pit. _That_, Kili thought, _could be a fair assumption._

Passage ways and bridges of a dark, stony, green-blue colour ran in all directions providing crossings over the giant pit situated before them. They appeared to have been well-preserved after so many years with only a few missing sections and the vast majority escaping any sort of decline. It was the same for the balconies and viewing platforms that ran above them, all crafted by an expert hand. Kili could not see the very bottom for an inky blackness swallowed it up, but the rest, while dim, was enough to provide more than justice for all the stories he had been told about the wonders of Erebor in his youth.

"It's no wonder uncle was always so desperate to return here," he heard Fili faintly breathe in his ear. Kili had to agree. He could not image Thorin and countless others having to abandon this beauty and make do on the plains and in the small villages of a place faraway over the snowy mountain range that had crossed before where they had run into those blasted goblins. He would have never been able to do it.

"Well, are we going or not?" he said, snapping himself and his two companions out of the dazed like state they were all in. He shot a glance at the flights of stairs they would no doubt have to navigate and found the idea apprehensive. While he had told Bilbo he was just tired from the light night and early awakening, he knew that it was something else toying with his system that was making him so; the first feeble signs of what was to come. He only hoped that it would not affect him further before they had managed to kill the dragon.

Fili led the way, drawing his twin swords as he slowly descended down the stairs, Bilbo behind him with his sword drawn, and Kili armed at the rear. They had no idea where they were going which was somewhat of a hindrance and Kili wondered whether Thorin or Balin should have come with them in order to find what they were looking for and to navigate the multiple tunnels, passageways, hallways and rooms.

He paused in his thinking as he helped throw Bilbo across the first deterrent they had come across before leaping the gap himself, sheathing his sword as he did so. The young dwarf almost fell backwards as he landed, only the hands of his brother and Bilbo steading him enough so he could regain his balance in a time that took a fraction longer than usual. As it was, his heel knocked a stone into the dark abyss below. They all heard it clatter noisily down before the sound disappeared. All was quiet for a moment as none of them dared to breath and only a few moments later a bellowing roar rang out across air, echoing off the mountain walls. Obviously Smaug was awake.

* * *

Fili closed his eyes and breathed as the roar died down, trying to slow his racing mind so he could think clearly.

"I think the roar came from that direction," he told the others, pointing across a small section of the city with his sword. He watched as Bilbo visibly paled in the dim light looking disturbingly like a ghost.

"What? We're going down there _towards_ the monster that made that sound?" he asked in disbelief. Fili smiled grimly at him.

"Do you have another idea of how we can retake Erebor without facing the wee little beasty?" he asked in a slightly condescending tone. Bilbo glared at him.

"Don't patronize me," he growled. It was at this moment Kili stepped between them expression a cross between half amused and half exasperated.

"Girls, girls, we can fight later," he said, "Meanwhile Thorin will kill us if we don't report back soon with some good findings." Fili gave his brother a quick and discreet look over, noticing the fact that his breathing seemed a little more rapid than usual. He decided against mentioning it. His brother was right; they had a job to do and couldn't spend their time arguing with each other.

"Alright, let's continue on. Watch yourselves; there are more missing walkways here than previously," the blonde dwarf warned. The other two peered down and stepped back, allowing him to take the lead again. The fell into step, following the exact position of where his feet went so as not to tumble over the sides.

The three continued this way for some time until Bilbo stumbled as he landed right on the edge of a gaping hole in the pathway. Fili immediately turned at his shout and stretched out a hand, dropping one of his swords in the process. It clattered to his feet as the blonde dove forward and managed to catch the hobbit before he disappeared into the inky blackness below them. He grunted, arms straining.

"Kili," he yelled out to his brother whose way was now partially blocked by the pair before him, "I need you to jump across and help me heave him up." He could feel the hobbit's sweaty hands on his own and he dropped his other sword in favour of not letting their burglar plunge to his death. Bilbo let out a terrified cry as he slipped an inch. "Kili!" cried Fili, "I can't hold onto him for much longer!" And suddenly he felt his brother's arms weave around his own as he grabbed hold of Bilbo's coat and shirt beneath.

"Come on," he grunted, obviously straining himself, "Help heave."

Together the two dwarfish brothers pulled Bilbo out of the abyss and dragged him to safety beside them. The trio laid on their backs, looking up towards the heavens and panting as they slowly regained their breaths.

"Good news is that we're nearly there from what I can tell," Fili said after a small while.

"How do you know?" Bilbo inquired. The dwarf gestured to the soft golden glow behind them.

"What else would be making that save for the vast treasury of gold Thorin said was down here?" he answered. This silenced both his companions, stilling any further questions they may have asked.

Slowly he sat up, wincing as the abused muscles in his shoulders protested the movement. He then forced himself to stand and moved to help pull up his brother and the hobbit. Kili looked as though he was about to collapse and his legs were visibly shaking even in the almost non-existent light. They were down pretty deep and Fili was suddenly concerned that his brother was hurt.

"Are you alright?" he asked, allowing his younger sibling to lean on him. Kili took in a couple of deep breaths.

"I'll be fine in a minute. Bilbo is just heavier than he looks." The hobbit glanced up as the brown-haired dwarf said this.

"Hey, I'm not _that_ heavy," he protested. Kili shot him a wan smile.

"To be honest, I think the jump was also tiring. I had to try and not land on Fili least he should accidently let you go. Took all my efforts not to fall over the edge." Fili supposed this was true enough, after all the gap had been a fair size and he had been blocking most of his brother's landing space with his splayed out body.

"Why don't you continue on while we wait here for Kili to recover a bit of his breath," he suggested. The burglar looked apprehensive.

"I'm not sure…" he began.

"Come on, we'll be right behind you," Fili pressed. If anything, Bilbo's look darkened.

"Now where have I heard those words before?" he heard the hobbit mutter before he looked up, "Alright, I'll go, but if I get incinerated I'll haunt the pair of you for the rest of your lives." This managed to drag a small smile across the dwarf brother's faces and another ghosted upon the company burglar's lips.

"Look after yourself, alright," said Thorin's heir, "And try not to antagonise the dragon. And don't let him know your name." With these wise words of advice given, the two princes of Erebor watched as Bilbo's small figure disappeared around the bend before them.

* * *

Bilbo nervously twisted the ring on his finger, unsure if it would work against a dragon. It hadn't failed him so far but that did not provide reassurance that it would work perfectly this time round. There was always a first for everything.

Stepping out into the open and feeling slightly naked and more than vulnerable, Bilbo stared in awe at the treasure that surrounded him. It was no wonder Thorin's grandfather had gone made; all the gold before him and the light it gave off could mess with anyone's head.

There was yards and yards of the yellow-coloured metal, all stretched before him as if it was a star filled plain in itself, hidden away deep within the mountain. Every race would quite literally kill to just hold even a hundredth of what was in front of him for themselves, even half the hobbits back in the Shire would give their own mothers just for one single handful of riches. He suddenly blink, startled.

_Did that pile of gold just move…?_ he asked himself, _it couldn't have. What could have moved it from underneath? What would be large enough to…dragon._

The small hobbit flattened himself against the wall as the hill of gold moved again, this time the coins and other metal trinkets sliding off at an immense rate as something unimaginably large began to rise up from it. The movement became faster and faster and soon a massive head and the upper half of a long, black scaled neck was clearly visible, bared for all to see. It turned towards him and the company burglar got the unpleasant feeling that while the dragon could not see him, he could sense him. The head darted forward and he scooted around the wall, hardly daring to breath. He had just turned the corner when the very near sound of large amounts of metal being disturbed by a larger force came from just beside him and he found himself face to face with Smaug the terrible. Bilbo swallowed and prayed to whatever heavenly bodies might exist, trying with all his might to become one with the wall. One of Smaug's large, amber eyes blinked slowly and deliberately as he inspected the area before him.

"Who dares disturbed Smaug the terrible," growled a voice echoing fearfully around the room. Bilbo dared not even blink. "Well?" Smaug roared again, "Show yourself for I know you are here."

Trembling, Bilbo tried to think of what he could do, if anything. He was not skilled in combat and the only other weapon he had about him besides Sting and his ring was his wits. His wits… Suddenly an idea bloomed to life, if only Smaug would fall for it.

"I am the Great, Invisible Hobbit," Bilbo declared loudly, remembering what Fili had said about not giving away his name. Smaug regarded the area he preoccupied with one lazy eye.

"And do you choose to be invisible through your own linage or is it just a trick of the eye?" Smaug asked, "And do not lie." Bilbo considered his answer carefully. If Smaug knew about the ring he would lose one of his scarce advantages he had over the creature.

"Through blood," he answered finally, remembering what Gandalf had said about hobbits being creatures who were adapt at sneaking around without being seen. It was a kind of invisible anyway, "I am from a linage of great burglars who have the ability to be seen when only they want to be seen." He intently knew he had chosen the wrong words as Smaug drew in a deep breath.

"Burglar?" he repeated in outrage, 'Do you think you could just enter the mountain and steal my hoard? My riches? I think not!" He was about to breath a gush of flaming fire when Bilbo quickly interjected.

"It is a title," he said hurriedly, "Not the name for an occupation. I too am immensely rich fellow and can understand your concern. But do not so readily lump me with thieves for I despise them as much as you surely do." He breathed a sigh of relief as Smaug withdrew a small bit and considered what he had just said. Slowly the hobbit began to inch away towards the way he had come so he could make a dash for it when the chance presented itself.

"How rich?" he could hear the dragon asking. He winced as he hastily came up with a reply.

"Oh, far richer than anyone I have met," he said and saw Smaug bristle slightly, "But not as rich as you. Your collection of gold far surpasses even my own." Now the dragon was bristling with pride.

"My hoard is indeed impressive," he said conversationally, "One of my greatest achievements."

"Oh, how so?" Just a little further and then he could make a run towards the passageway where he had left the two dwarfish brothers.

"I took it from a host of tiny, antlike dwarves. They trembled in terror at me and I sent them running from this mountain and its gold in shame," he boasted.

"Oh," Bilbo said again, "And you were never afraid of any retribution?"

"No," Smaug growled, "The dwarves would never think of moving against me."

"And if they did, if they somehow found a way to steal back their gold?"

"That would never happen!" Smaug roared, the rest of his body rising up from the gold, tail trashing and wings half expanding. He was huge in every sense of the word.

"Of course it would never happen," Bilbo said, trying to lessen the aggravation the dragon now felt but Smaug ignored him, suddenly focused on something else.

"What is that I smell?" he question, "That smell that I have not sensed for such a long time," his nostrils flared, "Dwarf!" It was at that moment that Bilbo broke out into a dead run.

Sprinting back to the due who were waiting for him he dashed past them, grabbing their hands as he did so and pulling them along behind him.

"What…?" Kili asked, bewildered as to what was going on.

"Just run!" Bilbo shouted, "He may be right behind us."

"It would be easier if we could see you!" Fili shouted back at him over the roaring of Smaug. The hobbit immediately removed the ring and slipped it into one of his pockets.

"Now run will you!"

They ran as if hell itself was pursuing them, the two dwarfish brothers opting to throw Bilbo over the gaps rather than to wait for him to jump them himself. They were all sweating with the effort of dashing towards the hidden door as fast as their short legs would allow them to go. About five more passageways to go, Kili began to fall behind, wincing with every step as agony clearly coursed through is chest. Fili and Bilbo fell into step with him, both bearing concerned looks.

"You should keep going," Kili gasped, holding his sides, "I'm sure he'll be right behind us." Fili shook his head.

"No," he said, "Come on, lean on me."

It was in that formation that they now ran, with Bilbo dashing ahead. Soon they made it to the door and halted, looking for a way to open. Another roar sounded behind them and Bilbo, in a panic, threw himself forward, banging hard on the door. Fili joined him, still half supporting his brother.

"Open up!" he heard the blonde yell and then miraculously the door was yanked open. All three tumbled to the ground, Bilbo pushing the door closed behind them.

"I would say you found the dragon and the treasure," Dwalin commented. Fili turned his head towards the larger dwarf.

"You'd think!" he exclaimed before letting his head flop back down.

"I've never run so hard in my life before!" Bilbo panted.

"I have," Kili said.

"Really?" Bilbo asked, obviously not believing him.

"Yes," Fili said, answering for his brother, "It's called outrunning Thorin every time we woke him up when he was hung over."

"Which was a lot," interjected the brown-haired dwarf over him. Thorin did not seemed amused as he hauled the pair to his feet.

"So what do we do now?" Bofur queried. At that moment Smaug the terrible burst forth from the great set of doors below them and made his way towards Dale with the giant flap of his wings.

"I say," said Thorin, "That we go and repay Bard and the men for helping us out before."

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**Please review and tell me what you thought. Hopefully the next chapter will be quicker, but no promises.**


	21. The Archer and the Beast

**I hope this chapter lives up to your expectations and (I know I'm beginning to sound like a broken record) sorry for the long update. A word of warning, a few weeks from now I will be going away for a couple of weeks meaning that, unfortunately, a few updates from now, it will take a while so don't chew me out please! I will try and get as many chapters as I can up, but no promises Maybe this will make up for it?**

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**Chapter 21: The Archer and the Beast**

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The dwarves descended down from the giant statue, swiftly swinging off its foot and landing on the earthen floor as they neared its bottom. Thorin landed first with Dwalin and both seemed to be in deep discussion as the eldest of the company moved up towards them. Bilbo was hastily scrambling down as best he could with Nori coming down more gracefully behind him. Kili was one of the last to descend, swinging down as he felt the blonde's concerned eyes on the back of his neck.

"I would say we do not have long until Smaug returns," Balin observed, looking over at the sky that stretched before them. The others seemed to agree with him.

"And Dale would not have long until Smaug razes it to the ground," Thorin answered, "We move out now."

Unlike before, no one was in a joking mood, especially not since they had seen the giant monstrosity that was Smaug. Kili shivered inwardly dreading the moment they would have to go up against the ferocious creature and rightly so, for what use did their puny weapons have against one so large and gigantic? He thought of all the men that would most likely die today, the women and children that would be burnt into pillars of ash to be blown away in the winds created by Smaug's massive, scaly wings. And all because they had woken the dragon, because they had decided to reclaim not only their homeland, but their gold as well. The young prince felt sick in his stomach as he, along with the others, followed their leader towards the town they had left not so long ago.

* * *

There was chaos everywhere, people panicking as they hurried to escape the dragon which was consequently seeking to burn everything in his sight to the ground. Smaug the terrible let lose a roar of rage as he thrashed his tail around, amour-like scaled deflecting the small, stinging arrows that were being launched at him from the equally small human men that faced him. Already they had tried to come at him with biting swords and bruising maces but to no avail for he was almighty and powerful and could crush the whole town if it took his fancy. What he was doing however, was trying to pick up the scent of dwarves. It had been strong outside his mountain and he had followed it back to this town but no matter how many roofs he ripped off the pitiful houses, he could not find one single being short and stocky enough to be a dwarf. He would just have to settle for the humans instead.

* * *

Bard ran shouting as he tried to group together another assault force of archers to try and bring down the attacking monster. His bow was unslung and in his hand but it would continue to prove useless until he managed to acquire more arrows to fill his quiver and hopefully the body of the dead dragon which now had them all running wild.

Running past a huddled group of people Bard swore and backtracked. He came up beside them and grabbed the oldest looking men, practically yelling at the top of his lungs as he gestured wildly at the crowd of women and small children behind him.

"Get them out of here," he ordered and the young lad of no more than fifteen nodded looking both stubbornly determined and as if he was about to faint at the same time. Bard sighed inwardly and pressed a small knife into the boy's hand, nodding to him before he sent the group off, giving them what little cover he could with the spare arrows he had managed to salvage. Not that it done much and just as the last few stragglers reached a more sound shelter, the area in front of them blew up, throwing them, and Bard, backwards. Bard, being lucky enough to be further away from the blast, escaped with little injury, namely a few more bruises he could add to his collection. The others, well the front of them was burned beyond belief and anyone who had been inside was gone. Such was the destruction of the monster which had overtaken their town.

The bowman took cover behind a half burnt down house, narrowly escaping another burst of flames which then engulfed the unlucky person behind him. He could hear his leader shouting for them all to move, to escape while they still could but Bard felt inclined to disobey his chief's orders. Never the less, he did not like his chances of staying here with the dragon, so at the next opportunity he ran for it.

* * *

The dwarves were all hurrying along, not at the breakneck pace that he and the two nephews of Thorin had achieved back in the mountain but rather a slower yet still urgent speed. Bilbo and Bombur both struggled to keep up with the others, the former due to having shorter legs, the latter to the fact he was a largely round fellow. The hobbit was panting with the effort, still not fully recovered from his mad dash merely this morning, literally at dawn.

Bilbo had noticed something when Smaug had been raging, lifting his neck and exposing his chest to the full scrutiny of the company burglar. And in that time, the small, timid hobbit from the Shire had seen an opportunity present itself, if only the right moment stepped forward at the same time; just above Smaug's lower chest on the left side, almost directly over where the dragon's heart would be, was a small patch bear of anything other than thick skin, skin easily pierced by an arrowhead or the blade of a sword. The rest of him was covered by scales and Bilbo ̶ and the others ̶ thought a strike to the eye, while most likely blinding the creature, would not prove to be fatal. The small patch of naked skin may be their best chance for a successful attack.

"Is that screaming?" Ori asked almost apprehensively, and certainly timidly from just in front of the hobbit, questioning the horrific sounds that were being faintly carried across the wind, "If so, what in Middle-Earth is making them?" Balin, like the time before when Ori had inquired about something, answered the question.

"Aye, those are screams we are hearing. And as to what is making them," he said almost sadly, "That would be the people of Dale. Can you not hear Smaug's roars over the top of them?" The already sombre air over the dwarves grew even more so.

"By Durin…" Dwalin breathed, again summing up what was happening into a few short words. That was a talent that at any other time Bilbo would have envied.

Looking onto the other dwarves to see their reactions, the hobbit watched as Bofur's face blanched and Kili audibly swallowed. Bilbo felt sympathy towards the younger for it would be most likely that he would be the one running into the line of fire being the company archer and all. No one else could stand a chance in hitting a killing blow at Smaug because no one else would be able to get close enough, save for a fluke of some miraculous nature. That or another archer, a resource they unfortunately did not have.

The hobbit watched as Kili's brother moved in to reassure him privately, discreetly going about what he said. This did not do much to change the expression on the beardless dwarf's face. The others of the company, however, were all arguing about what course of action to take.

"I'm telling you if we attack front on in a direct assault we will be burned to smithereens, beyond smithereens even," Bofur was arguing with Bombur nodding diligently by his side.

"A front on attack is the only way to go," Gloin argued back, arms flailing by his sides, "Any attempt to sneak up on the dragon will be thwarted and then we really will be burnt to a pile of ash." Bilbo felt physically sick at this.

"But brute force will just result in a suicide mission," Nori pointed out, Ori beside him looking as though he could pass out at any time, petrified stiff at the mere thought of attacking Smaug head on.

"Maybe a distraction then while a few of us try to get at his weak spot," Oin suggested. Dwalin shook his head, arms crossed.

"And risk the fact that the distraction may not work?" he stated bluntly, "It would be risk enough just to send in two to try and get close to that monster." Balin frowned.

"Yet if we do not try the beast will not be killed; surely you recognise that brother?" And it was at this point that the argument blew out into a full scale shouting match with only Thorin, Bilbo and the youngest two refraining from voicing their opinions. The scenario would have been funny had the debate not been about a topic so serious that it could mean that several of the company may never return from it.

"Enough!" bellowed Thorin, seeming as on edge as the rest of them were. The others all turned to stare at him. "Every moment we spend debating the finer points of this situation decreases our chance of actually killing the dragon," the exiled king continued, "We need a plan, one that preferably would involve as little risk as possible. To do that, we will need to see what is left of the human settlement and what resources they have and then combine the two to launch an attack that will be most likely to succeed. Now move out. We have tarried enough already."

Bilbo could see why Thorin was called 'king'; the dwarf seemed to keep a level head and his tactics were reasonable and well thought out. And even though at times the company leader could seem distant and emotionless, the hobbit could tell from the few glances he had been throwing at his nephews that he was worried what the assault might cost them.

* * *

"A company approaches from the east," the voice of a sentry called and Bard struggled to hide his surprise. Everything east if where they were laid in ruin, like so from the attack of the dragon all those years ago. No one in their sane minds would go that way let alone a whole group of people. It was then that he remembered the dwarves.

"Let them through," he shouted back, "Do not engage in any hostile activity. They may be able to help us."

* * *

Bilbo almost threw up as he wandered past the various clusters of people which were tending to each other's wounds. The lacerations from the debris were bad, but it was nothing compared to the burns that marred nearly half the survivors. Children no older than their first few years lay crying pitifully on makeshift beds, mothers fretting as they could do nothing to help their distressed babies. Men were running everywhere at once as women were trying to bandage them up just as fast. Several were being held down screaming as an experienced healer assed their wounds and made the call to amputate a leg or arm. Never in his entire life had Bilbo laid eyes on such a scene.

"You return from your quest I see," a voice commented above them, almost sarcastic in the way it was being delivered, "Did you find the glory that you sought?" Thorin glared up at the bowman.

"We came back to help you rid Middle-Earth of this dragon not to be mocked or accused," he said tightly, bristling in such a way that Bilbo was reminded of Smaug. Bard raised his eyebrows.

"If not for you this would never have happened," he shot back. Balin shook his head, stepping forward.

"If I might interject," he said politely yet firmly in an attempt to defuse the situation, "I would believe Smaug was already awake before we returned to the Lonely Mountain. Now are you going to accept our help or turn us away?" Bard looked at the old dwarf, expression saying that the conversation was far from over.

"Very well," he relented in a tone dripping with what could have been mistaken for resentment, 'What do you have in mind?" Balin smiled up at him, a grim smile that did not reach his eyes.

"We, or rather our hobbit friend here, may have found a way to kill the dragon," he informed the brown-haired man before him. Bard gazed expectantly back at Balin, waiting for the dwarf to state what it was that was so important.

"And this would be?" the bowman asked finally, not one for waiting patiently when there was things that needed to be done and monsters that needed to be slayed. Balin maintained his polite smile.

"A small patch of bare skin on the left side of his chest just over his heart," the white-bearded dwarf said as if the information could solve all the world's problems. In a way, on a much smaller scale, mused Bilbo, it could.

"And how are we going to get to it?" Bard asked, ever the one to get straight to the point, "There is no possible way someone could get close enough to stab the creature."

"Which is why we were thinking that a small group of archers may be able to achieve what needs to be done," Thorin said, speaking up again. Bard raised his eyebrows.

"So you would risk the lives of a few men just to kill the dragon you so despise?" he asked. Thorin stared him down, gaze unwavering.

"I would risk the lives of a few men to end the destruction that Smaug has brought about," he answered, voice deep and unwavering, "Or would you rather that he come and reduce you all to dust while you cower here without shelter or a proper means of defence?" Bard looked at the exiled king for a moment before replying.

"I will organise a group, but I am in charge. It is my home after all, not yours," he paused, "But if I do this for you, you must promise me something in return." Thorin looked wary as to what the archer's request might be and Bilbo felt his stomach churn as he waited for Brad to continue.

"And what would that be?" Thorin asked, the others of the company restless behind him.

"That the Arkenstone be handed over to us once you reclaim your city. I am sure there is more than enough gold to sate your desire for riches."

"Very well then," Thorin said somewhat stiffly, "It is a deal." Somehow Bilbo got the impression that the dwarfish king was only agreeing because of the fact that they needed Bard to help destroy the dragon.

* * *

Bard fingered his bow, hands tightening around the familiar wood which worked to reassure him. Three other men were with him, the only archers that he had managed to scrounge up between those who were injured and those who were coward enough to refuse to go within such a close proximity to the dragon again. With them, however, were three dwarves; the tall, bald one with the tattooed head, the one with a ginger beard, and the dwarfish archer who he knew for a fact had been injured in the very close past. Still, the more the merrier, though he supposed the first two were only there to protect the nephew of Thorin Oakenshield, the youngest if he remembered correctly.

Glancing back at the youth, Bard wondered how old he was in the years of men, surely not that old for he looked only around seventeen or eighteen. This then led the archer to wonder what he was doing on a quest like this, why he was part of the dwarfish company. In any case, if e was a good shot with his bow, then his age did not matter.

Looking up at the entrance to the town in front of him, Bard tried to pinpoint where their target was. Seeing no visible sign of the great beast he decided to set up the archers for when it came back.

"Alright," he said, beginning to direct the men and dwarves under his command, "Two archers will be stationed on that roof over there and three archers on the roof opposite. You will be joining me on the first roof." This last point he said to the beardless dwarf. He nodded, mouth set in a determined line causing Bard to wonder if the youth was as scared as he was; he could hear his own heartbeat drumming in his ears.

"What of us?" asked the tattooed dwarf as the other three men made their way over to the second vantage point. Bard thought for a moment, not really coming up with a great use for the two warriors trained in combat fighting not archery.

"You can stay on the ground and out of the way," Bard said bluntly. The dwarves made to protest but Bard cut them off. "If, and only if it is necessary and the plan goes wrong you may join in the fighting as reinforcements but for the most part, you being involved will put off our aim." While the pair did not look happy about this, Bard knew for a fact that their leader had placed them under his command for the time being. Anything he said was to be obeyed and followed without question to an extent; Bard also knew that if it came down to it and the situation became too risky, they were to pull out.

Each archer taking up their positions, they readied their bows, looking around them for any sign of the dragon.

"To the east," Bard heard the dwarf beside him yell and he looked up, spying the rapidly approaching figure in the distance. He drew back his string and aimed, waiting patiently for the beast to some within range. Next to him, the dwarfish archer did the same, pulling back his arrow almost simultaneously with him. The strategy was to try and aggravate the dragon enough so that a clear shot of its vulnerability could be taken. If the dragon knew of its weakness however, this task would not be so easily accomplished, if it had been at all easy to begin with in any case.

"Ready," called out Bard, tensing as the shaded figure of the monster drew swiftly nearer and nearer. "Take aim." The figure began to enlarge, almost blotting out the image of the sun as it flew forever forward. "Hold." The archers were all tensed now, waiting for the precise moment to shoot. "Hold," Bard called again and a bead of sweat broke out on several of the archers' necks. "Fire!"

A small volley of arrows flew out from the curve of the bows and met Smaug in mid-air bouncing harmlessly off his skin. The dragon roared in rage and turned his glinting eyes upon the five stationed on the roofs. Then all hell broke loose.

"Move!" Bard yelled seeing what their target would do a moment before he done it. The dwarf was already halfway to the edge of the roof and at his direction, the other three men opposite them began moving. They had jumped out of the way just as a torrent of white-hot flame scorched the rooftops around them. One man had not been so lucky and he screamed as he became a pillar of raging flames.

"Does this count as gone wrong?" asked the tall dwarf who had suddenly appeared beside him. The ginger one was next to their third companion. Bard looked at the axe wielding being and shook his head.

"Not yet. Give us time to see some action before you come running in." The two dwarves raised their eyebrows, clearly displeased, but that was all they did before slinking away to the shadows again.

They could all hear Smaug tearing up the houses in front of the one they had hidden behind. Twice they had to move or risk most likely being torn up with the house they had hidden behind. The dwarfish archer did not miss a beat as he kept by Bard's side, legs moving fast to make up for their stumpiness. The other two dwarves Brad had not kept track of; he supposed they were hidden somewhere within the maze of ruins. What no one saw until it was too late was the dragon's flailing tail. One of Bard's men glanced up and had just begun to shout a warning when it slammed into the building, crushing the centre and splitting it in two. The small group of archers split up and dove in different directions, Bard and the dwarf to the left, the other two to the right.

"Rohan, Eric, meet us at the entrance gate," Bard called to his men and both nodded to signify they understood and then fled away from him and Smaug. Turning back to his own partner Bard gave him a quick look over. "Are you hurt?" he asked. The dwarf shook his head though his thin face with its delicate features was somewhat paled. This brought back the memories of the frightened young boy who had died right in front of his eyes. Death was never something one took lightly and Bard would not be surprised if he was awoken by nightmares months after this horrific day. It was as if it was from a nightmare itself with all the flames and monsters running about, destroying everything in their paths.

The slamming of a gigantic scaled tail a hair's breadth away from his face jolted him back to the present. The human archer turned and ran, dwarf not far behind as they narrowly dodged a second stream of flames aimed at them. Slipping and sliding on the ash and debris, the pair turned corners, pressing themselves against the wall as Smaug's tail again tried to crush them. They had waited for only half a moment before they made a run for it again.

_If,_ Bard thought as he ran, _we can somehow lure this beast to the gate, the others can shoot it down._ It was a strategy that might very well work but it would mean both he and the dwarf would have to avoid being crushed in the process as they used themselves as bait.

"This way," Bard called, motioning with his arm the path they should take. The dwarf did not hesitate to follow him through the alleyway as behind them the giant wing beats used the wind to propel the colossal body they were attached to. They reached midway down the closed in pathway just as a massive intake of breath could be heard behind them. Bard turned midstride and let loose an arrow, hitting the titanic monster dead centre in the nose. The dragon roared and drew in another mighty breath, letting it go in a wave of blistering heat. By then, Bard and the dwarfish archer had made it to the end, the man swinging the dwarf bodily around the corner with him, both collapsing on top of one another as Bard stumbled back and fell. The fire shot through the opening of the alleyway, reaching a few feet further before it died down into nothing. Booming footsteps could be heard as they crushed anything in their way but, by the time Smaug had stuck his black-coloured neck out between the two half-destroyed buildings, the archers were gone, on the run again, their shoulder length brown hair disappearing around a corner not far away from where the dragon was now. Smaug roared and began to follow them.

"Where are we leading this wee beasty?" Bard heard the dwarf ask, the first time he had spoken since they had launched their first volley of arrows towards the dragon. He had to admit the archer was smart for he had not yet told Thorin Oakenshield's nephew of his plan. He was, however, unsure if he approved of the light tone the youth was using to address the dragon racing behind them, but as he looked upon the dwarf's face, he saw that the dwarf knew the seriousness of the situation. It would seem the archer was doing what many soldiers did in the face of danger; cracking a joke right back at it. It was an attempt to lessen their own fear Bard knew, he himself had used this technique many times and it rarely ever worked.

"Towards the gate," Bard answered, "Where Eric and Rohan are waiting to ambush him."

"Would that be them two?" the dwarf inquired, stopping in his tracks as he gestured towards where the gates to the city had once stood. Bard followed his gaze and stopped out of pure shock. Before them was nothing but a wall built of stone scorched beyond recognition. And on that wall was the shadows of two figures literally imprinted into the stone, the size of two full grown men. What was even more disturbing however, was the fact that both the blackened images of the men appeared to be wielding bows.

"Eric…Rohan… They're…" Bard could not form the words. The dwarf was as equally shocked.

"What in Mahal could do that?" the smaller archer asked. The answer came quite literally came roaring around the corner.

Bard and the dwarf looked around for a way out but between the wall and the dragon there was nowhere they could go. They backed up, heels of their boots brushing against the stone. Bard looked at his companion and then at Smaug and made a decision. He would not see another death that day if he could help it.

"Oh, you great brute," he yelled as he darted forward, "Over here." Smaug turned and looked at him, the rage in his eyes unmistakable. The dragon started forward and then stopped, the opening of his jaw giving away his intentions. Bard ran for it.

Dodging around the corner, the bowman gasped as he felt the heat of the flames singe the ends of his hair. He did not let that stop him though as he continued to bolt blindly through the wreckage of the town. Not such a good thing he reflected as he came up against a dead end. Turning he watched as what would most likely be the one who killed him came barging forward. Closing his eyes, Bard wondered if he would end up imprinted on the wall like his friends and fellow archers.

Smaug took his time coming into view, seeming to know that his prey had given up, or would soon anyway. Bow only had three arrows left and they would not prove to be useful unless a miracle showed itself. Still, he was not one to go down without a fight.

Preparing to loose what would probably be his last ever arrow, Bard stared into the gaping jaw of Smaug the terrible and was shocked as it snapped shut and then opened again, this time pointed towards the sky as the dragon roared in agony. An arrow was protruding from his eye, put there by the only other archer in vicinity who was now perched not far away from Smaug. Bard saw what was going to happen a second before it did.

"Watch out!" he yelled a moment too late and the brown-haired dwarf went flying. At first Bard thought he was dead before the youth sat up, groaning. He was not safe and as a distraction to the dragon, Bard managed to land an arrow not on the beast's injured eye but close enough to it to add insult to injury. The monster turned on him and he backed up, pulling another arrow from his quiver. Two left.

And suddenly two cannonballs hurtled from behind him, one towards where the dwarfish archer was and one towards where the dragon was. Smaug roared in indignation as an axe came bearing down on one of his feet. He growled and retreated into the air when Bard aimed another arrow towards his face. The tattooed dwarf turned to him.

"Would you say this would be defined as 'gone wrong'?" he asked. Bard glanced up at the sky, last arrow notched in his bow.

"I would say it is past 'gone wrong'."

"What are we still doing here?" yelled the ginger dwarf as he helped his brown-haired comrade to limp towards them, "Run!" And run they did, for all they were worth.

Smaug was right behind them as they dashed for the way they had entered, his fiery breath wreaking havoc on what was left of the village. They got within a few feet when they could feel the hot breath of the dragon on their backs. Turning back around, they stood in formation, the ginger dwarf behind with their archer still leaning on him, and him and the tattooed dwarf towards the front. Smaug landed right in front of them and smiled a wide, gaping smile knowing that there was no way they could outrun him.

"And now you die," he boomed in a deep, rumbling voice.

As the dragon lifted his neck, Bard saw a one in a million opportunity present itself and he took it. Before anyone knew what he was doing, he had stepped forward and released. The arrow flew straight and true, landing smack centre in the middle of the only bear patch of skin on the beast before it. A moment passed before Smaug the terrible kneeled over and fell to the ground, once and for all vanquished. There was a moment of stunned silence before the dwarves sent up a cheer, the tallest of them clapping Bard on the shoulder. For them, it was finally over.

* * *

**Review, please! They are my lifeline (and yes, I know that sounds desperate).**


	22. Sickness

**Quick update, probably not the best chapter. I think now would be a good time to point out I haven't actually read the book so I have no idea how this part goes. I hope you like it anyway.**

* * *

**Chapter 22: Sickness**

* * *

It had been a month since the death of Smaug and the city of Erebor was slowly being rebuilt to what it once was under the watchful eye of Thorin. A lot had happened in that month, especially to Kili.

After having Fili fret over him for the first few days after his clash with the dragon and its tail, the pair had begun to explore the wonders Erebor had to offer, a task which was far more enjoyable without having to worry about a dragon. They had found many different treasures, not all of them gold. There had been a few mouldy scrolls at which both Ori and Balin had rejoiced at, and a great hall which had appeared to have been largely untouched by the desolation of Smaug. Then, of course, there had been the Arkenstone, the pride and joy of the dwarves of Erebor.

Nori had been the one to find it, rooting through the gold in the treasure room at the time for reasons that could be deemed as highly suspicious. He had immediately presented Thorin with the orb and the latter had taken it straight to the throne room where it belonged, all polished up and shining like the magnificent gem it was. Kili had not seen his uncle since the ceremony celebrating the discovery if the Arkenstone, though he supposed it was due to the fact that Thorin was now king of the mountain as was his right. Fili had and the others had also been buried in work, and he along with them, meaning that their time together had diminished somewhat. The young prince was sure Oin was still watching him, or had him being watched though the half-deaf dwarf rarely confronted him about his…condition, a fact which Kili was grateful for.

Rolling over on his bed, Kili blinked blearily up at the high roof which seemed to accompany every room in the mountain. He clenched and unclenched his hands, stretched his legs and sighed, the stiffness he had been trying to get rid of for days now still burrowed in his bones. He sat up and nearly threw up, his stomach swimming nauseously as he tried to hold down what he had eaten the night before, not much considering his appetite had faded somewhat.

Laying back down, the dwarfish archer closed his eyes as he waited for the feeling to disappear. It did not, but the urge also did not get any stronger, something which Kili was thankful about. If he was sick, Fili would know and then he would probably find out what his brother had been keeping from him for the past month and a half, and he couldn't let that happen, no matter what. It would destroy his brother who would then go out of his way to make Kili as comfortable as possible meaning that the happy, normal memories that Kili wanted to leave behind with him would be rendered useless. Maybe he could just lay in for a while; he had nowhere of importance to be.

Absently Kili wondered whether this was the next stage of the poison that was slowly finding its way around him and to his heart. His eyes drifted closed, the room growing dark as they did so, and soon the young dwarf was slumbering away without a worry in the world, dreaming of billowing red and close fitting browns and greens, with two swords of amazing skill weaving around a single wooden bead clutched in his large, warm hand.

* * *

Bilbo paced back and forth as he and Fili waited for Kili to join them. They had received news that Bard was requesting an audience with Thorin and all three had an inkling that it was to do with the Arkenstone and Thorin's promise to give it to Bard in return for slaying Smaug. Footsteps echoed in the hall as they carried a familiar figure towards the pair. Bilbo looked up and into the face of the youngest prince of Erebor as his blonde brother began to speak.

"Get carried away in your dreams little brother?" Fili asked in a light tone. Kili gave him a small smile.

"Something like that," he said just as lightly, he expression perhaps too reassuring, "Now what is the news with Bard?"

As Fili filled in his brother on what they knew and what they suspected, Bilbo glanced sideways at the younger of the two. He looked thinner and, according to Fili, his appetite was not what it should be. He seemed happy enough, though he could be distant at times, and the hobbit could tell that Fili was being driven up the walls not knowing what was wrong with his brother.

"So what has uncle got to worry about?" he could hear Kili asking. Bilbo turned to him and answered.

"I don't think Thorin feels inclined to hold up his end of the bargain." And it was true; from what Bilbo had seen of the king, he had seemed to have gotten possessive over his treasure, something which he wasn't sure that the others had realised.

"That will be a problem then for Bard does not seem like one who sits ideally by while someone screws over a deal they have made with him," Kili stated. Bilbo felt inclined to agree; the bowman had come off as one who got what he wanted, whether he had to do it himself or not. It had been him who had fired the killing shot to Smaug and not lost a wink of sleep over it. It had been him who had argued for some time with his leader refusing to back down. And it had been him who had finally stepped up to take the town chief's position as had been proclaimed as rightfully his. A formidable opponent not only in physical skill, but mentally as well.

"Uncle would never go back on his word," Fili interjected, putting an end to Bilbo's trail of thoughts, "And we must have more faith that he would do the right thing." The young blonde did not look as confident as his words sounded however.

"Thorin does not seem like himself lately," Kili pointed out, "And that may affect his decision. He was perfectly fine until a few days after we retook this place as ours." The concern in the brunette's voice and his own words let the hobbit beside him know that he was not alone in his thinking that their company leader had changed.

"It is probably just the stress," Fili counted half-heartedly, the look in his eyes saying that he was plagued by the same thoughts. Footsteps could be heard approaching them and the threesome turned to face the direction they were coming from. "And in any case," the golden-haired prince continued, "It is not wise to be talking of such things out in the open. Durin knows who is listening in. Now let us prepare to meet our guest."

The two dwarves and the hobbit all straightened their coats self-consciously, Bilbo fingering the ring in his pocket. He had been getting some bad dreams lately; not nightmares though, more like a dark whispering at the edge of his mind. It was, however, nothing he felt he should worry about at the current time.

"Bard," Kili greeted, stepping forward first to meet the bowman. The archer and leader of Dale nodded to the brown-haired dwarf.

"How goes your repairs?" asked Fili conversationally, eyeing the two men behind the tall man. Bard looked at him, eyes calculating.

"They go well," he said at last, "Though the rebuilding is taking a while and many families are still in mourning. I thank you for your concern." The tone of his voice made Bilbo think that the layer of Smaug still held some grudge against the dwarves. "I suspect you know why I am here?" Fili nodded.

"If you follow me, I will take you to our king while my brother informs him of your arrival," the blonde said, Kili disappearing down the passageway with another slight nod to their guest. Bard's demeanour did not lighten and it stayed the same the entire journey to the throne room.

As the doors opened to reveal the insides of the room, Bilbo saw that only three figures occupied the space. Upon the throne was Thorin, dressed regally and gold crown atop his head. To his left stood Balin, bead neat and pristine white like it always was. Kili stood a little further away to the right, off centre and looking slightly pale as if he was coming down with something. Fili knelt as they came before the throne, the others following suit. The hobbit watched the proceedings with interest.

"You may rise," Thorin said after a moment's pause to allow for the respectable time for those of a lower class than him to acknowledge the king, "Bard, what brings you here?" The human straightened the rest of the way, regarding the dwarf before him coolly.

"I have come to ask for the Arkenstone which you promised me for help in defeating the dragon, Smaug," he replied with all the authority of his given rank. The gem he spoke of glowed softly in the small hole set in the throne above Thorin, its multi-coloured exterior bouncing the light off it to give it the appearance that it was moving.

"And is that all you have come for?" Thorin asked and Bilbo could immediately sense the stiffness in his voice. From the looks of the other dwarves in the room, they had noticed it too.

"That and a possible alliance between our people," Bard said, his face smooth and devoid of any real emotion, a perfect poker face generally used when dealing in politics. Bilbo himself never had much of the courage or set of mind needed to survive in such a harsh world yet he knew that this deal would be one of the best Thorin could make as king. Thorin, however, obviously thought otherwise as he exploded into a rage, his eyes wild with fury and another emotion Bilbo couldn't quite name.

"You think that you can just come strolling in here and demand that we give you the Arkenstone?" he said, not yelling yet his voice still as thunderous as the stone giants they had faced on the Misty Mountains, "And then you have the nerve to extend your arm in an attempt at friendship and speak of alliances as if you are not taking away the most prized possession of the dwarves of this kingdom? I will not have it!"

"But," Bard said, trying to cut in, "If you would only-"

"No," roared Thorin, hands gripping the arms of his throne as he half rose in his anger, "The Arkenstone is the very heart of this mountain and the pride of the dwarves. I will not see it in the hands of another being, much less a man."

From where he was positioned, Bilbo could see Balin and Kili's reaction to their leader's outburst and they both looked beyond startled. Fili's back was still faced towards them, but the tenseness he saw in the dwarf's shoulders let him know the prince was not exactly glad about his uncle's response to Bard's requests nor the fact that he had so boldly gone back on his word.

"Now be gone," the hobbit could hear the king saying, apparently having winded down on his rant sometime between when Bilbo had been focussed on his words and now. Bard turned tail and stormed out of the chamber, his companions following him. Fili glanced at Thorin before dashing after them as if he was going to try and cool the three down before they left the gates of Erebor and declared war on the city. Balin had moved to beside Thorin, a slight frown creased between his thick eyebrows. Kili had disappeared elsewhere, leaving Bilbo the only other soul in the room. He glanced over to where Balin and Thorin were apparently having a heated debate and towards the doors, his mind churning over the events that had just occurred.

The small fellow from the Shire waited for a short while before taking his leave, a plan starting to formulate in his head that could resolve the frayed bonds between Erebor and Dale.

* * *

Bard stalked haughtily down the corridors, still at disbelief that the dwarf king had so easily gone back on his word. The man had recognised a type of madness gleaming in the beings eyes and would not have been surprised if the dwarf had finally gone mad after all the years of what he had seen and been through. He had also heard rumours of another kind of sickness that might plague the king, though he would not be one to just dismiss the idea that the dwarf was just plain arrogant.

"Bard!" he heard a voice behind him call and the leader of Dale whipped around to find Erebor's crowned prince hurtling down the passageway after him. The blonde skidded to a halt and Bard allowed him a moment to regain his breath before opening his mouth to speak.

"And what do you want?" To the dwarf's credit, he did not flinch at the cold, hard tone Bard had fitted into his speech.

"I wish to apologise for any offence my uncle may have caused you," the blonde answered, his blue eyes searching Bard's face in an attempt to discover his plans. Bard frowned.

"I do not accept," Bard said, crossing his arms over his chest wondering if he could perhaps bargain with this dwarf instead and get what was owed to him, "Your uncle went back on his word and that is something I do not so easily forgive."

"Yes," Fili replied, acknowledging Bard's words, "But he is under a lot of stress right now having to restore and rebuild this great city. It would do you well to perhaps wait a bit and then come back again to repropose your idea. My uncle may be more willing to accommodate the idea."

Bard looked at the young dwarf before him and had to agree there was some logic to his idea. Bard was not one, however, to just let someone walk all over him, and the king of Erebor was no acceptation.

"You have until sunset tomorrow to deliver the Arkenstone to me or else suffer the consequences. What those are yet I do not know, but they will come." With that, the archer and his men left the blonde standing alone in the corridor, both parties unaware to prying eyes and listening ears that ha overheard their whole exchange.

Taking a deep breath, Bilbo sighed and slide down the wall and to the ground. He knew what he had to do, but he was worried what would happen if the others found out. He would just have to keep reassuring himself that nothing bad would happen to him until nightfall or else he would chicken out of what he was planning.

* * *

"Thorin," Balin reprimanded, "That was no way to treat a guest, the slayer of Smaug no less." The dwarfish king turned to his white-bearded advisor and raised his eyebrows.

"It was he who stepped out of line first, Balin," the dark-haired dwarf stated. Balin pinched the bridge of his nose, not pleased with the way events had turned out. He did not want to outright disagree with his king but he also did not want for Bard to declare a war on them because of something Thorin had refused to do. The old scholar could only hope that Fili could help to smooth down the archer's ruffled feathers and make things turn back towards a brighter light. Meanwhile he had the task of dealing with his leader.

"Are you sure there is no compromise you and Bard could come to an agreement on? Perhaps instead of the Arkenstone, a small amount of gold from the treasury. It could do no harm to try," he suggested, hoping to Aluë that Thorin would agree with him. The younger dwarf turned to look at him however, expression dark at the mention of giving away his gold. Balin bit his lip, inwardly shocked as he placed the expression to one that had looked exactly like it but on a different face years and years ago. Surely Thorin was too strong to succumb to the dragon-sickness. When the dwarfish king opened his mouth to speak however, it was soon proven that Balin's hopes were false.

"Give away the gold that so many of our kind have worked to hack it away from within this very mountain? The gold which plainly states our superiority over others? The gold which is as much as part as this mountain as the dwarves who live here are? And you are asking me to give some of that gold away to a man who is not even of our own kind?" Thorin's voice held both rage and a shocked disbelief. Balin took a step back and held up his hands in a gesture of peace.

"It was merely a suggestion," the advisor said, feeling a small pit of helplessness begin to build up in his heart, "Something for you to think about so that you might find a way to amend things with Bard."

"Maybe things with Bard should remain unamended," Thorin shot back, "I have no intention of doing business with that arrogant man no matter what he might threaten. Erebor is a mighty city and will not be so easily felled by men. Now leave me as I have other more urgent business that needs attending to." The king stood and descended swiftly down the steps of the platform his throne was set upon and walked to the door with all the grace of one of a higher class. Balin watched him sweep out the door before turning to leave himself by a small, more unused door off to one side, ignoring the sense that he was not alone in the otherwise empty room.

* * *

Bombur had been stationed on guard at the entrance to Erebor, a task not to be taken lightly and yet here he was nodding off as the moths and fireflies danced with each other around them moon. The rather round dwarf was not made for such long vigils; he liked his siestas just as much as he liked his food and being deprived of either often made him grumpy and ill-tempered.

The ginger dwarf shifted again in his sleep causing Bilbo to pause in midstride and hold his breath least the dwarf should wake and ask what he was doing in the dead of night. A few moments later and the ginger-bearded fellow settled back down, Bilbo breathing a sigh of relief as he darted past the large figure.

Soon he was out of Erebor and on his way to the city of men, his thoughts running rabid in his head as he tried to calm down his high strung nerves. He stopped outside the rebuilt gate of Dale and looked up as a spotlight was shone on him, the flickering light of the fire blocking the guard's face.

"And what business do you have with Dale in the middle of the night?" asked the buff man, two dark eyebrows frowning amidst the light of the fire. Bilbo pulled back his cloak and beheld what was beneath it.

"I have come to bring the Arkenstone to Bard," he answered. The guard did not hesitate to open the gate for the small being.

* * *

Kili looked at the mess that he had made in the bowl and grimaced. Had he had a weaker stomach for such things he would have thrown up again, but growing up in the environment that he had, sights like this had been all too familiar as well as sights of sickness and death. The dwarves had not been so protected in the Blue Mountains from the natural forces as they would have liked.

The prince wondered if he should tell someone; Fili and Thorin were out of the question, not that his uncle would care with the way he was acting. That left him with Bilbo, Balin and Oin, but Bilbo would be worried and probably spill his secret at least to Fili. Balin and Oin would both keep quiet if he asked ̶ Oin had not told anyone so far ̶ but Balin would not keep his mouth shut if he knew that the young prince was dying. He would say that his family had a right to know.

That left Oin who was probably the best option in any case, but he knew the healer could do nothing in any case except place him under a closer watch and Fili and the others would defiantly notice something was wrong then. But if Oin could make something to stop the sickness churning away in his stomach… It was an idea that was worth the risk.

* * *

**Please review once you have read this. Tell me what you think.**


	23. Banishment

**Hello. I am trying to get the last few chapters up before I leave. So here is the next one in the story. Again, no fire, please. I have not read the book. Constructive criticism is accepted gladly.**

* * *

**Chapter 23: Banishment**

* * *

"Bilbo did what?" Fili gasped, unable to believe what his brother had just told him. Kili grimaced, thankful that the brew Oin had conjured up had staved off any more feelings of nausea for the time being, but his stomach was churning never the less as he thought of what the hobbit had succeeded in stealing.

"He took the Arkenstone and gave it to Bard. Thorin is not happy," he repeated, adding on the last bit after a slight pause. Truthfully, he was afraid of what his uncle was going to do. Usually he was a fair judge but now that his mind was not quite his own ̶ more full of anger and greed than anything else ̶ the company burglar might actually suffer a much harsher punishment than anything that would be otherwise deemed as reasonable. He and his brother were just glad Balin had managed to convince their king to hold the trial among a select few instead of the whole court.

"But why would he do such a thing?" Fili muse out loud. Kili shrugged.

"Well whatever reason it was for, it soothed the tension between Bard and us, a good thing to if you think about it," Kili answered. Fili nodded.

"He could have gone about in a more subtle way though," said the blonde, "Maybe told someone what he was planning or altered his deal with Bard somehow."

"Altering the deal sounds like the best option," Kili replied, "Even if it was only that Bard kept possession of the stone for a certain amount of years before it turned to us for the same period of time and so on. Would've meant the Arkenstone still stayed with us at least most of the time."

The two sat in silence as cutlery scraped on plates, Fili finishing off his cut of meat and Kili picking at a few of the sides that had come with his own slice of venison. He wasn't all that hungry but made the effort to chew and swallow a few small morsels for his brother's sake. Fili stared at him as he absently ground down a piece of potato with his back molars.

"What?" he asked, unable to stand the unblinking blue eyes any longer.

"Why aren't you eating much?" the blonde asked and Kili immediately went on alert so as to assure that he would not give anything away.

"Just because I don't eat as much as you-" Fili cut him off midsentence.

"You've hardly eaten anything at all!" the older brother exclaimed, "And it has been the same story for the past week. What's wrong? Why aren't you eating?" So the golden-haired prince had noticed, not that it should have surprised him. Fili had a way of noticing anything that was odd with his younger brother's behaviour.

"It's nothing," Kili mumbled, not really wanting to have this conversation and praying for an excuse to present itself, one his brother could not ignore.

"Don't tell me it's nothing," Fili snapped, "You aren't_ eating_, Kili. That's _something_. Now tell me what is wrong." At that moment a messenger came bursting in through the doors, a messenger who they both knew as Ori.

"What is it?" Kili asked, jumping at the chance to escape his brother's questioning. Ori looked between the two, clearly uncomfortable with the fact he had disturbed something between them. "Well?" Ori snapped to attention.

"The king commands your presence at the…" he trailed off, not wanting to say what they all knew he would say. Kili couldn't blame him and he felt a shiver run down his spine.

"We're coming," Fili said with a glance towards his brother clearly stating that the conversation wasn't over. Kili just looked back at him and tried to smile in face of what they were about to witness and at his brother's own face. His stomach was churning nervously once again.

* * *

Bilbo sighed as Dwalin came forth to release him from the room he had been confined in. The hobbit supposed the only reason why he was not locked in a deep dark dungeon like the dwarves had been in Mirkwood was through Balin's influence. He was probably the only one that Thorin would listen to now, the old advisor being the only one who had really known Thorin since birth. Not even his own nephews were able to convince him of anything and that was a fact that Bilbo found all the more worrying for previously the two had been able to wrap the usually gloomy dwarf around their fingers ninety per cent of the time.

The door to the sparsely furnished room was opened and the tattooed dwarf appeared before him, expression grim and mouth set in a hard line. He gestured for the hobbit to walk in front of him, mouth opening as he did so.

"Don't try to use the ring to disappear or else I will be forced to hurt you." The dwarf's tone was clearly unhappy with the situation and Bilbo could think of nothing to say. If he was truthful with himself, if he was in Dwalin's place, he wouldn't be exactly happy either. After all, he had stolen the Arkenstone when Thorin had plainly stated he would not be handing it over to the humans, it being a source of pride for his race and all. Bilbo guessed he couldn't have done anything worse, except maybe killed the king or one of his nephews.

"Dwalin, I-" The large dwarf cut him off, his gaze still staring straight ahead and prodding Bilbo in the back when he tried to turn around to keep him on track.

"You're an idiot," the seasoned warrior growled, "A bloody, damn fool. What in Middle-Earth put the idea into your mind that you could steal the Arkenstone from Thorin no less and get away with it?" Bilbo hung his head, both embarrassed and ashamed.

"I only though-" Again Dwalin cut him off.

"Ah well, what's done is done and now you must suffer the consequences of it." The dwarf sounded surprising tired and deadpan, as if all that had passed had taken a massive toll on him and his emotions. Usually Dwalin was bold and proud in what he said and he now sounded surprising like Thorin had towards the beginning of their journey.

The two continued in the same formation until they reached the throne room where the hobbit would be tried. Butterflies of nervousness danced around in Bilbo's stomach and for the millionth time that day he wondered what would happen to him and if he would come out of this in one piece.

The doors opened presenting Thorin on his throne, Fili and Kili taking their places at his right side, seemingly puffed out from the hurried pace they must have set to get there. Balin, as ever, was present at his king's immediate left, gaze carefully guarded but eyes saddened by what they saw. Bilbo swallowed as Dwalin halted him in front of the throne, gazing up at the no longer exiled king who had an apparent gleam of madness buried deep within his eyes. Balin stepped forward as the hobbit tried not to fidget, placing his hands clasped in front of him to give them something to do.

"We are gathered here today to witness and carry out the trial of one Mr Bilbo Baggins, a hobbit of the Shire and owner of Bag End," the old dwarf began in a voice that was carefully devoid of any emotion, "He has been charged with theft of the Arkenstone which has yet to be reclaimed, a crime worthy of a life time of imprisonment in the best case scenario, worthy of the death penalty in the worst. Do you, Bilbo Baggins, acknowledge this claim against you to be true?" Bilbo swallowed, remembering what the white-bearded dwarf had told him to say.

"I, Bilbo Baggins, acknowledge this claim to be true," he stated clearly despite the stuttering of his heart. Out of the corner of his eye he could see the pained expressions that Thorin's two heirs bore as he spoke these words. He shared in their fear and could only hope that Balin had managed to do the best he could to relieve the punishment. He watched as the old dwarf took a breath to continue.

"Then, as you have no argument against the charges, punishment will be given accordingly," Balin swallowed, "With the fact that it was an attempt to smooth over any hostilities between Erebor and its neighbour, you would be condemned to spending the rest of your days in a cell in the dungeon."

_Would be_, Bilbo crowed in his mind, though he was still unsure whether this was a good thing, _he said would be!_

"But also bearing in mind, that as a member of the company who retook this mighty city and helped restore its rightful king on the throne, and the fact that you provided information to help defeat one of Erebor's greatest enemies, the charge has been lightened." Balin was almost smiling as he said this, almost. Bilbo felt a small seed of worrying begin to weigh down his stomach yet again. "You are to leave Erebor in exile meaning that by tomorrow dawn, you are to have left the immediate vicinity of Erebor and must never return upon pain of death. You will be given the rest of this day to prepare your belongings and say farewell to any one you think necessary and then at nightfall you must leave."

Exile. Bilbo could not believe his ears. Yes, he was getting off with his life and was able to return back to his hobbit hole in the Shire, but he would be leaving his friends behind, friends that he almost would consider as family.

A small tap on his shoulder and a look from both Thorin and Balin told him it was time to go and he had not a moment to waste. Following Dwalin back through the doors, he swallowed his tears, refusing to shed them before Erebor's king.

* * *

The elf came running in, skidding to a halt in front of Thranduil and his son who were discussing guard shifts among other things. The raven-haired elf bent over to catch a few short breaths before glancing back up, a worried gaze penetrating deep into his superiors' eyes.

"What is it Silas?" Legolas asked, his body suddenly tensing as if he was preparing himself for a fight. The elf before him threw Thranduil a quick look before turning to the prince.

"Orcs," he said, his voice sounding a little more than high strung, "Masses and masses of orcs. And what is more is that they have goblins with them whose numbers alone can put up a reasonable fight against us." Both Legolas and his father turned their nose up at the mention of goblins; these creatures were the dirt and scum of Middle-Earth, below that of even orcs.

"And where do they march?" the blonde heard Thranduil ask, "Onto us or towards another?" Silas gathered his thoughts and wits before speaking and replied in a much calmer tone than before.

"They march towards the city of men that lays only a day out from us, and from there, I believe they will attempt to retake Erebor. From what I've heard, the small company of dwarves who escaped captivity managed to kill the dragon Smaug."

Legolas thought about this information and wondered what call his father would make. The last time the dwarves had needed help, Thranduil had turned his back on them and they had suffered for it immensely, the reason for the company's mistrust of the elves of Mirkwood. Surely not even his father would be so cruel as to reject them a second time round, not when the circumstances were so drastic yet again. Surely even Thranduil felt some guilt, some remorse for what he had neglected to do all those years ago and was eager to make up for it.

"My king?" the prince heard Silas ask ever so faintly, "What is the planned course of action?" Thranduil turned to him, and all hopes Legolas had quickly diminished as he saw the look in his father's eyes.

"There will be no course of action save the increasing of patrols and the guard," the elven king commanded, causing both elves to stare at him in shock.

"But father," Legolas exclaimed, "Surely you would not leave them to the cruel fate that comes their way when their city has not even been rebuilt to half of what it was!" Thranduil looked upon his son, eyes still hard and cold.

"What comes their way is their own doing," he stated, "And I cannot just let my own people put themselves on the line for the fate of a few dwarves." Legolas glared at his king.

"They're more than just a few dwarves," he said angrily, still bewildered at what his father was willing to do, "They are a city, a kingdom just like ours. And besides, would it not work to have a powerful alley such as Thorin Oakenshield to fall back upon when you need him?" The elf's reasoning was convincing and apt enough to persuade anyone opposing him to join his side of the argument. Everyone but his father that was.

"You would sacrifice the lives of good men for a kind that openly despises us?" Thranduil shot at him. Legolas shook his head.

"You would only need to send a small force of about a hundred or so as a small token to the dwarves," he answered, "And if they do win, which will be far more likely with us by their side, then they will remember that favour and will owe you one in return. What is more is that they will tone down their hatred of us for the simple reason that we helped to fight with them to protect what they hold dear." If that wasn't enough to convince his father, he didn't know what was.

"Very well," Thranduil said, relenting, "But if any ill comes of this, it will be borne on your shoulders alone." If it meant saving the city of dwarves, Legolas was sure it was burden he could bear. _And in any case_, he thought grimly, _if it does go wrong and we do not win, there is little chance I will be coming back as one piece._

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	24. For the love of gold

**I forgot to mention in my last author's note; guess who's back! Legolas will be in the last few chapters, though after this one, Tauriel will only appear in the last one. This chapter might not be the best, but I don't think the ending is too bad and the next few chapters will certainly be filled with a lot of action and feels, so yeah. Hope you like it.**

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**Chapter 24: For the love of gold**

* * *

Bilbo looked sadly at the belongings in his bag and then at the room he had occupied. It was not extravagant in the least, but it was far more majestic than his own humble home that would now only contain himself for he doubted any of the company would visit. The company… He would miss them all, especially Fili, Kili and Bofur, their loud antics throughout the whole journey keeping him sane. He valued each dwarf's friendship above any possession and now he could not help but feel he had betrayed the trust it had taken them all to build to accept him as one of their own.

"It'll be sad to see our burglar go," said a voice behind him. Bilbo whirled around and found himself staring at Kili who was leaning against his door, eyes sad but expression brave if only to encourage his exiled friend. Bilbo sighed and turned back to finish adjusting the straps on his pack.

"For some of you anyway." Bilbo could not help but turn his tone bitter at the thought of the brunette's uncle. Kili shook his head, seeming to know what ̶ or rather who ̶ he was talking about.

"When Thorin comes to his senses I am sure he will see his mistake," the archer replied half-heartedly. Bilbo shook his head, ever the pessimist.

"That's if he ever _does_ come to his senses."

Kili's expression turned grim at the hobbit's words and the dwarf cast his eyes down and away from the being before him. Bilbo felt his heart-strings tug and he could not help but sympathise with the young dwarf for everything he had been through on the journey he only came on for his uncle's sake only for Thorin to become plagued with this gold madness as he had heard a few dwarves call it. Fili would most likely be feeling the brunt of the king's change as well, both brothers having been close to him before hand; practically raised by the dwarf.

"I'll see you off if you like," he heard Kili state, obviously not wanting to dwell on the subject of his uncle. Bilbo did not have the heart to turn down his offer.

Together the two walked towards the gates of Erebor, Bilbo glancing around at the mighty city one last time as he tried to imprint all of its details into his mind so he could remember them for years to come. Kili walked beside, unusually subdued as if his thoughts were trailing along a much darker path than usual. It was not long until they reached the entrance to and exit from Erebor, too short a time than Bilbo would have liked.

"I guess this is it then," said the hobbit to the one and only dwarf who had come to watch him leave, "Thanks for walking with me." Kili smiled sadly at him, several indecipherable intentions buried beneath his expression.

"Who knows when we'll meet again, if ever," the dwarf replied. Bilbo own smile was sad as well and for once he decided to take the optimistic side as he spoke.

"You never know, maybe Thorin will relive my punishment in the future and we will seeing each other again far sooner than expected," he said as a half joke.  
Deep down he wished that this small event would happen. Kili's smile did not change.

"Goodbye, Mr Boggins," he said as a farewell, "I doubt we will meet again, and if we do, I doubt that we will be the same as we are now."

Twisting the ring around on his finger inside his coat pocket, Bilbo blocked out the threads of whispers emitting from it and silently agreed with the dwarf as he moved off, back to the Lonely Mountain as he left its humbling presence for what was most likely the last time.

* * *

Legolas halted outside of Dale and looked up the length of the gate to the guards who were manning it. The two humans looked down with identical expressions of barely concealed surprise.

"What do you want, elf?" one asked somewhat respectfully, finally managing to get the words past the shock that still rendered his companion tongue tied. Legolas looked up at him, the urgency of which had speed his and his men's heels through the forest evident upon his face.

"I must speak with your leader," he stated, leaving no room for debate. The two guards nodded.

"I will fetch him if you would be so kind to wait outside the gates," said the one who had spoken before, "Your presence in the town would cause quite a stir and many ill feelings amongst our already devastated people." Legolas complied and signalled for his troops to wait as the guard disappeared leaving only his companion to keep watch over them.

Looking beyond the gate, the elven prince of Mirkwood could see the humans rebuilding what looked like a half destroyed and badly burned city. Half of it appeared to have been flattened by a giant force, the body of the dragon Smaug if he were to cast a wild guess. It was not long before the gates were opened and two figures stepped forth to meet him.

"Greetings elf of Mirkwood," the king of Dale said. Legolas nodded in return.

"And greetings to you, Bard I presume it is?" the blonde elf asked. The man nodded and Legolas continued. "I am Legolas, son of Thranduil, king of the elves of Mirkwood. Now I have urgent news of which I must part with you." Bard raised his eyebrows.

"And what might that be?" he asked, face and tone both indifferent yet tainted with a sense of foreboding. Legolas took a breath.

"A vast army of orcs marches towards Erebor through Mirkwood in what we believe is an attempt to take the mountain. My men and I will take a stand with the dwarves if they allow it and would very much appreciate your help as well. If you choose not to join us in battle, I suggest you move as far away from the mountain as you can for the time being." He waited for Bard to reply.

"I doubt that Erebor's king will swallow his pride to accept your help," he snorted, "But I could be proven wrong all the same, and would be glad if that were so." He moved forward to clap the elf on the shoulder a sign of his good will. "Let it never be said that the men of Dale were ones to flee from a fight. Now if you would allow me to see to several things here, our combined troops will be able to set off just before dusk." Legolas breathed an inward sigh of relief at Bard's agreement to participate in battle. Now they would be standing on more even footing though he was sure most would likely die. It was for this reason that he had not brought Tauriel along.

* * *

Pacing back and forth, Tauriel fumed over what Legolas had told her. Not allowing her to march towards Erebor with them; it was an insult to say the least. The logical part of her mind understood that she was needed as captain of the guard to stay and protect her home from any outside threats, but this reasoning was drowned out by her fear Legolas might not come back and her frustration that, if the scenario she feared did come to pass, she could do nothing about it.

She fingered the small object in her pocket and her mind drifted elsewhere towards thoughts of brown-haired, beardless dwarves shooting arrows from bows carved of wood. Legolas had told her the dwarf had survived, but he had not expanded any further leaving her to worry endlessly about what might have befallen the dwarf in his clash with the now dead orc who had held both captive and tortured them.

Tauriel suspected that the dwarfish prince now resided within Erebor and would, therefore, be fighting in the battle. She had managed to persuade Legolas to send her a message regarding the young dwarf once the battle was over, stating that it was the only way her heart and mind could ever be set at peace. She owed the dwarf but there was no way she could ever repay him, not with Thranduil still being so set against dwarves, and vice versa.

* * *

Kili ducked around the corner as he tried to avoid his brother and his questions, and found himself almost running into Bofur and Nori. The two looked at him, taking in his somewhat winded state.

"What are you running from? Or rather who?" Bofur said, reaching out a hand to steady the prince. Kili looked back over his shoulder.

"Fili," he said, not really wanting to divulge much into why he was running. Nori and Bofur both raised their eyebrows.

"What did you do this time?" Nori asked, "Braid his hair with soot and ash from the forges? Shave his beard?" Kili gave the dwarf an incredulous look.

"Oh, come on," he said, "I didn't do anything. And in any case, you know I would never shave my brother's beard."

"But you would braid his hair with soot and ash," Bofur said.

"And many other things besides," Kili replied, shrugging, "He's family." The two laughed.

"Then I would hate to see what you would do to an enemy," Nori gasped. Kili offered the pair a small smile before opening his mouth to excuse himself.

"If you'll just-"

"Kili," a voice said from behind him, one that he had not been wanting to hear. The brunette turned to face the blonde.

"Yes?" he asked, feeling the eyes of Bofur and Nori boring into the back of his neck, "What do you want?" Fili gestured for the younger prince to follow him.

"Thorin has called for both our presence in light of something that has appeared," he said. Kili could not help the look of curiosity that crossed his face.

"And what would that be?" he asked. Fili shrugged.

"Don't know, but the faster we get moving the faster we'll find out." The golden-haired prince again motioned for his brother to follow him and this time Kili reluctantly followed. At least he was sure that Fili was not lying; his sibling would never lie about Thorin in any case unless it was a life and death situation. Kili paused and Fili continued a few paces, not realising until a moment after that his brother was not following him.

"What is it?" he asked, eyeing Kili with some concern meaning he had not forgotten about their earlier conversation. Kili started forward again, albeit more slowly this time round as he gathered his thoughts.

"You don't think it has anything to do with uncle do you?" he asked, fear beating in his heart as he thought out possible worst case scenarios. Fili chuckled and shook his head.

"He looked fine to me the last time we saw him Kili which was only this morning," he said, rubbing the head of the dwarf beside him, rumpling the youth's hair, "You know, you should really think about putting in a few braids." Kili succeeded in backing out of his brother's grasp and moved just ahead of the blonde, turning his head over his shoulder as he answered.

"I think you know the answer to that," he said good humouredly, still slightly worried for his uncle and slightly embarrassed for being so. Fili's argument had logic to it that he had personally overlooked. "They just won't stay in. And besides, I prefer my hair down and free to do as it pleases." Fili grinned behind him.

"Let no man say I didn't try," the blonde stated with cheer, "So when it comes to a battle, you cannot blame me for it getting in your eyes and blocking your view."

"Never mind that now," Kili interjected, "We're here." For the second time that day the pair entered through the doors into the great hall which contained the throne room. Thorin, Dwalin, Balin and Oin where all crowded together in a clump as they discussed something of seemingly great importance between themselves. Balin looked up to see the two heirs of Erebor enter.

"Ah," he said, breaking free of the group, "You're here. Now we can discuss matters more closely." Fili raised an eyebrow while Kili tried to decipher what the older dwarf was talking about through the grim expression the white-bearded dwarf wore.

"And what might these matters be?" the elder brother asked. Oin stepped forward to answer his question.

"An army, or rather two armies have set up camp at the base of the mountain. As far as we can tell, the two armies are comprised of both humans and elves." The old healer looked uncomfortable with what his words might be suggesting.

"What are their intentions?" Fili asked, acting as the speaker for both brothers. Kili didn't mind, he had never had a head for such things and he was too busy in trying to see through the coded gazes Oin was sending him.

"That we do not know," said Dwalin, speaking for the first time since they had entered, "But if they wanted to attack, they would have done so already and without alerting us. They would have also brought bigger forces."

"Then what do they want?" Again the blonde prince spoke up for both himself and his sibling.

"That is part of the reason why we called you here, Fili," said Balin, looking at both his king's heirs, "You two and myself will all be going down to discover whatever reason they have made in their mind to camp outside our city with an army. Dwalin will be coming as well." Dwalin did not look happy about this Kili noted and he very skilfully smothered a laugh at the tall dwarf's displeased expression. He shared the same feeling though, not really comfortable with being diplomatic in the face of a vast crowd of beings that were not even remotely related to dwarves.

* * *

Legolas glanced up from where he was sitting and Bard paused in his pacing as four dwarves appeared before them, led by one of Bard's men. Each of the party acknowledged each other by nodding heads, all save for the tallest of the dwarves who seemed to be there as some sort of bodyguard and Legolas could see why. Even if he didn't know Thorin Oakenshield, he knew that the king would not have allowed for his only two nephews and heirs to come towards what could be potential enemies unguarded. The hard light in the tattooed dwarf's eyes only served to further reassure this fact.

"Bard," the oldest dwarf greeted as the two princes of Erebor halted behind him, the last dwarf behind them. The leader of Dale stepped forward as the white-bearded dwarf continued. "What is the meaning of this?"

"The elves of Mirkwood bring us news that an army of orcs and goblins are making their way towards this very mountain in an attempt to storm and seize control of it," the archer said, gesturing to Legolas to further explain the circumstances. The elven prince saw the four dwarves blink in surprise as he stepped forward.

"My father has decided that the elves will stand with you to help defend your precious Erebor," he informed them, "And Bard here has also agreed to help if you would only accept it." The golden dwarf stepped forward at this, his expression professionally blank and devoid of any emotion meaning that his thoughts were impossible to make out.

"And what is in this for you?" he asked, the tone of his voice warning them that they were now on precarious ground. Legolas discreetly eyed the dwarf's brown-haired companion before answering his question.

"I do not know what motivates Bard, but as for my father," he said, careful to keep his voice from sounding anything other than informative, "He would gladly allow you his assistance if you will assent to owing him one small favour in doing so. It would be nothing big," he assured the four dwarves, "And nothing now. Just a small way to show your gratitude sometime in the future."

He stole another glance at the youngest dwarf present, swallowing inaudibly as he noticed how thin the youth looked and how his face was paler than it should be. His spell was starting to lose effect. Glancing at the golden-haired prince in front of him, he wondered if the dwarf knew about his brother.

"Alright then," said the old dwarf, taking charge of things again, "That should not be too hard to do. Now what about your motives?" This time the question was directed to Bard. The man did not flinch.

"My intentions are simple. If the army takes control of Erebor, they will no doubt seek to destroy Dale as well. In ensuring that Erebor stays in your hands, I am ensuring the safety of my own city."

"That is fair enough," said the white-haired dwarf, nodding at Bard's proclamation, "I will inform my king of this. I cannot thank you enough for choosing to stand with us." And even though the dwarf's words sounded the same as those repeated in any case such as this, Legolas could not deny the sincerity the fellow put into them. He, the tall dwarf and the blonde prince began to move off, only to be stopped by their young companion's voice.

"Aren't you forgetting something, Balin?" the brunette asked, speaking for the first time. The white-bearded dwarf turned to frown on him.

"And what might that be?" the dwarf named Balin asked. Kili looked back towards where Bard and Legolas were standing.

"How far out is the army?" he asked, "When will they reach Erebor?" Legolas glimpsed Bard smirk a little at the question the youth had asked that the other, older three had obviously forgotten before he opened his mouth to reply.

"We left the woods just ahead of them," Legolas stated, "And, at the pace our lookouts reported they were going, they should be here by nightfall at the very least. You do not have long to prepare." The faces of all those around him were grim as he said this. The sun below them was just touching the horizon, only adding to this last sentence.

* * *

Bilbo ducked for cover as he heard the loud marching of hundreds of feet storming towards him. He could hear their guttural voices and the harsh clicks of their tongues as they spoke a language he recognised but did not know. Orcish.

Peeping out from the tree he had hid behind, he quickly held his breath, watching in disbelief as troops of orcs and goblins strode past, some atop wargs and some simply on foot. At the head was one monster he recognised and he felt his heart, for a single moment, stop beating out of pure fear as Azog the Defiler marched past him, oblivious to the fact that he was being watched.

Quick as lightning Bilbo slid on his ring and felt himself become invisible. He would not, however, risk running past the column for the simple fact that the wargs would sniff him out and he would be discovered. He would have to warn Thorin though; he would not let the dwarfish king and all the citizens of Erebor be slaughter, he could not let that happen.

Sliding down the trunk of the tree he was positioned behind, he waited for the army to finish passing him by.

* * *

"You cannot fight," Oin's voice said loudly as Kili raced around, trying to grab weapons and put on armour the at the same time. The old healer raised his hand, causing the youth to stop as he spoke again, this time in a slightly lower voice. "You cannot fight, not in the condition you're in."

"I'm fine," Kili stated grimly, knowing full well what path this conversation was going down. Oin shook his head.

"No you're not. What happens if you become sick during the battle? If you lose focus for one moment-"

"That won't happen," said Kili cutting him off and feeling guilty about it as he saw the worry shinning in the old dwarf's eyes. "Look," he said with a sigh, "I have not felt sick today at all and I am beginning to think it was a onetime thing." Kili did not believe his own words and he could see Oin didn't either.

"I don't think so," the healer said, "And it will only get worse. Just because you can't feel its effects yet doesn't mean the poison is done with you." The two were now arguing in a whisper, mindful of those around them who were also arming themselves.

"You can't stop me fighting, Oin," Kili said, "I am a prince of Erebor and it is my duty to defend the city." Oin shook his head.

"If I tell your uncle or Fili, they will force you to stay behind." Kili smiled at the dwarf's statement but it was a smile with no emotion other than that of a sad, cold knowing behind it.

"You and I both know that you will not tell them," he said at last after a long pause, "And if you do, I will fight regardless."

"But you could be killed!" Oin exclaimed drawing one or two curious pairs of eyes which he turned away with a challenging look. Kili gave sighed, looking around him at all the others who were still buried in their preparations.

"I will die regardless," he said simply, knowing that he had won the argument, "And if I am to die, better to die a hero in battle than a coward hiding away in the mountain. Promise me something though," he said after another, shorter pause, "If I do not see either of my family again, tell them that I love them, especially Fili. And tell them that it wasn't their fault."

Oin closed his eyes and took in a deep breath before opening them again.

"Aye, I will laddie, but you just see of you can make it first."

* * *

The horns sounded as a black line of enemy soldiers appeared on the other side of the plain they had chosen to fight on. The shadow of Erebor covered the ground before them and the cold, brisk air of the night kept each person awake and alert even though the sun had already set and the stars appeared. They were not in total darkness though, and for that, Legolas was grateful. He took it as a sign that the light of the moon was still with them as the previously quiet field leapt into an all-out battle for victory.

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******Alright, here's the deal. I will try to get the next few chapters up as fast as possible (only three left, although it could change to four) and in return, I would appreciate it if you would review my chapters. **


	25. Clash

**Alright, this chapter and the next should contain quite a lot of action being the Battle of Five Armies and all. Something happens towards the end of this chapter and I will say this now; I was tired when I wrote it and I this and that usually leads me to not care what happens to my characters. Also, I cut off each point of view at certain points making them short and perhaps a bit frustrating for you for reasons you will find once you read. This is a two chapter battle and will continue on next chapter.**

**I would really appreciate it if you would review once you have finished as I stayed up till 1 to finish this and get it up for you. **

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**Chapter 25: Clash**

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If their uncle's stories had been filled with blood and gore when they were younger, they certainly did not match up to the carnage of the first few moments of battle. Fili had barely swung his sword five times and already he had killed three orcs and a goblin; footmen wielding swords that had all but shattered on the first blow that the golden-haired prince had delivered them. Worthless scum sent forward for the sole purpose of breaking their ranks, a tactic which had been disturbingly effective in scattering the three combined armies that were defending Erebor.

Beside him, his two kinsmen were performing feats of equal status, bringing down all who stood in their path. Thorin was well protected, dressed in armour that, while restricting, kept most of his vital parts from harm. He wielded his sword like he had been possessed by the spirit of Durin himself and the mad gleam that had been in eyes before had been replaced by a stubborn determination. He was surrounded by several dwarves who served as his guard, making sure that their king did not fall victim to one of the enemies they were fighting against. Fili was part of this guard and was proud of it, the fact that he was defending his own kin lending him a protective fury that none of the others could obtain or hope to match.

Kili, on the other hand, he would have preferred not to be in the front line, the brunette's armour being lighter to allow him more agility and freedom to use his bow. He also formed part of their uncle's guard but of all the warriors there, he was the least experienced and not as skilled in such close combat as the others. True he could fend for himself but in a fight where over half the creatures he was fighting were bigger them him in both size and brawn, Fili couldn't help but think of how it might end. The blonde done his best, however, to keep his baby brother from any harm.

Fili grunted as the flat of a crooked blade struck the shoulder plate of his armour which was simple like his brothers, but covered more of his body like his uncle's. He fended of the follow up attack with one blade as he drove the other through the stomach of the orc he was facing off. Drawing his sword back out, he called a warning to Kili who then ducked a blow meant for his head. The blonde grimaced as he saw his brother fighting without a helmet, though he was somewhat relived that his hair, for the most part, was bunched together in a pony-tail at the base of his neck keeping it off his face and out of his eyes, allowing him to see the blows the goblin opposite him was delivering. A ringing in his ears brought Fili back to his own fight as he dodged a second strike aimed at his helmet.

Ears still ringing slightly, the blonde prince backed up a few steps and allowed the goblin in front of him to wildly swing the blade it bore around, regaining his sight and steadiness before he launched his own, far more deadly attack. Left, right, left again and his opponent crashed to the ground, spasming as his innards poured out through a large gash in his torso. Fili looked up, his mind already too saturated to take in any more of the horrific scenes unravelling before him. As the blonde lost himself in the rhythm of the battle, he could only think of two things; to fight and to survive. Nothing else mattered, at least not until his little brother's scream rang through the air barely decipherable from the many other screams that made up the atmosphere. Fili's blood ran cold.

* * *

Legolas' face was grim as he shot arrow after arrow into the vast volley of flying missiles that both the rest of his elves and half the men were contributing to. None of his shots ever missed as he tracked them through the black hail of feathered shafts and down to their intended victims. His orders had been clear to his elves; aim for the enemy's archers. This way they could reduce the amount of damage the force could wreck upon their own men who were fighting valiantly below.

The elven prince blinked as a scarred face suddenly appeared in front of his own, a lone orc breaking through the lines of men and dwarves bent on keeping the archers from any close combat as long as possible. Without a second thought, Legolas swung his bow, the bones in the vile creature's neck making a horrible cracking sound as they snapped under the force of the blow. The orc's body fell to the ground and the blond elf kicked it away, firing an arrow from his bow in the same moment, killing another orc who had been trying to cut his way through one of the front lines.

Feeling in the quiver strapped to his back, Legolas could easily determine he had around five or so arrows left. That and a whole spare quiver with another two dozen arrows, he was quietly confident that it would be a while before he, or any of the other bowmen, directly joined in the fray. It was at that moment, however, that the enemy archers decided to copy their plan and start shooting back at them.

As the first dozen arrows struck several of his men, Legolas set his mouth in a thin, straight line, ready to fight a whole different battle within the one that was already raging all around them.

* * *

"Thorin!" Kili cried out again as he ran forward to where his king had fallen. He crashed to his knees beside the crumpled figure as the others hacked at the orc who had been responsible. When he looked his uncle over, however, it was to his relief that Thorin was struggling to get back up, dazed from the blow that had knocked him down in the first place. The brunette helped his uncle to his feet, both standing to face each other. Thorin gave his nephew a small smile which Kili ignored as he allowed himself to become preoccupied with another task. The smile did not fade though.

"I am fine," the king said as Kili looked him over for any injury he might have sustained. The dwarfish archer looked up and saw that the dark-bearded dwarf's eyes were the clearest they had been in days. Kili felt an overwhelming desire to fling himself at his uncle but restrained himself, allowing a wide grin to cross his face instead.

"You're you again!" he exclaimed. Thorin retained his smile but it now looked painful and, to Kili's surprise, embarrassed.

"Yes, well, I suppose there are few things I need to fix and a few apologies to be made," he said.

"They'll have to wait for another time then," said Fili from behind the pair as he decapitated a goblin trying to skewer his brother, "Now is not the time to remising." His two kinsmen lost their grins as they turned back to the fray around them, weapons drawn and ready to go a few more rounds.

Kili stepped away from his uncle and brought his bow up to shoulder height, the arrow notched in the wooden weapon trained on the most hideous of a fighting pair not far off. The man stood without so much acknowledging the goblin body sliding off him as he found a new enemy to engage. Kili followed the swordsman's trajectory as he dispatched any enemy that came face to face with him before the man himself was slain in the most brutal of fashions, head long since crashing to the ground before his body even began to crumple after no less than three swords which had been previously holding it up tore lose. A sick feeling formed in his stomach at the sight of all the blood yet, contrary to what Oin had believed, he did not throw up. He just stood in shock for a moment before his brother's yells to defend himself brought him to attention.

Swinging around, he barely brought up his bow in time to block the war hammer that was hurtling towards his face. The weapon snapped leaving him with two shards of wood clutched in his hands and several splinters buried in his skin. Kili discarded the weapon, though he kept his quiver, and drew his sword. He parried the follow up strike and managed to cut off the orc's hand while doing so. The creature screamed in rage and extended its other hand towards his throat, long since been driven berserk by the battle around it.

* * *

Bilbo swallowed his fear and stood, trying not to go back to cringing behind the rock as several screams, louder than the others, rose up from the throng. They didn't sound like anyone he knew and a few even sounded like animals; not wargs but certainly not human, elf, dwarf or orc. He shuddered to think of who or what may have made them.

Drawing Sting, the timid hobbit stepped into the edge of the middle of the battle, ring still encasing part of his third finger on his right hand. He struck out with his weapon at a passing orc and by pure luck struck the being in gut, blade going straight through to the other side of the creature's torso. Bilbo ripped the blade free in a downward motion and turned away, repulsed, as its innards began to spill from the large incision on both sides. He shuddered and moved away, dodging between feet and blades, praying to whatever gods that might exist that he would not meet his end on this bloodstained plain.

The ring began to whisper to him again as he stabbed another orc in the leg from behind, allowing the elf who had been fighting the creature to finish it off as it fell to its knees. Growling to himself, not wanting to be distracted by its dark thoughts in a time like this, Bilbo ripped it off and turned. He froze and cursed himself as he found himself staring right into the eyes of death itself.

* * *

Legolas timed everything perfectly; the volleys of arrows, the time given to duck for shelter, even the few stray footmen and wargs who managed to get past the slowly dwindling line of warriors in front of them ̶ everything. He had even calculated for the loss of the archers who fell prey to the enemy's arrows. A small party comprised of mostly men had been directed to put a stop to this threat by Bard and had succeeded for the most part. The slaughter that had been rapidly bringing down their numbers had been reduced to a few tolerable loses every now and then. What no one had planned for, however, were the catapults.

"Duck!" an elf screamed as the first of many missiles came hurtling towards them at an incredible speed. The line of archers scattered, but many were to slow to avoid being crushed by the terrible weight of the rocks. Blood spurted as the unfortunate people's bodies were squished like a grape. Legolas closed his eyes, the image forever branded in his mind promising to bring him nightmares for years to come.

Jumping forward, Legolas barely managed to dodge another stone that had been aimed towards him and the other archers. Looking over to where the enemy had come from, the blonde elf could see a line of crudely crafted wooden catapults. Not much had him genuinely scared these past hundred years, but the sight of the foul contraptions of death were enough to make the elven prince of Mirkwood pale significantly.

"Move out and join the main fighting," Legolas yelled to those who were within earshot, "We are sitting ducks here and there is little we can do to help the others if we are all crushed like nuts." Those who were still alive and not trapped by a boulder immediately followed the elf's command. From high up above, the group looked like a stray bunch of ants scurrying to join the bigger swarm. There hardly a spot upon the plain that was not covered by masses upon masses of writhing bodies.

Stabbing a charging goblin in the eye with the fletched arrow in his hand, Legolas then proceeded to notch it in his bow and release, pulling a few unbroken arrows from the bodies around him and storing them back in his second quiver which he now wore, first discarded a while back. His swords were also strapped to his back, the hilts in an easy position for him to reach, but he was not going to use them just yet.

The stones fell upon them all like raindrops do on the earth. While there was not as many as several panicking people believed, there were still enough to cause considerable damage. Legolas had narrowly avoid being caught under one twice, the second time pushing the orc he had been fighting into the massive boulder's shadow as he himself had leapt clear. There were still many more to kill though, and just as he was in the thick of things, surrounded by no less than a mixture of goblins and orcs numbering around the fifteens, the string of his bow snapped, leaving a red welt where it had struck him across the cheek and fingertips. He cursed and threw the arrow he was holding with deadly precision into the eye of one goblin before drawing his swords.

As he pirouetted to meet a charging hunk of badly scarred flesh and bone, he hoped to Vala and back that he would survive this battle.

* * *

Fili was forced a step back as the orc he had been fighting pushed on their locked blades, Fili's two twin blades crossed to form an x, the orc's own blade locked between the two.

A bead of sweat broke out on the blonde's forehead.

"Argh!" he cried as he wrenched one sword from the tangle and thrust it into his opponent's side. The orc fell to the ground only to be replaced by another, albeit this one was thankfully smaller. He slashed at its face, arms burning from their constant use in wielding his weapons. The orc cried out and fell backwards, but not before it had lashed out blindly with the long knife it possessed and caught Fili along the side of his face. It was a shallow cut but the warm blood trickling down his chin and neck served to only distract the blonde from what he had to do.

The prince had lost track of Thorin and his brother though for a moment he thought he saw the brunette flailing around as he tried to fend off an enemy with his bow. Concern gnawed at his stomach but he forced it down knowing full well that it would only cause him to lose focus. He cried involuntarily out as he paid for getting stuck in his thoughts, arm aching from the blow it had been dealt. He could tell nothing was broken otherwise he would have dropped his sword, but the metal brace he wore around the afflicted arm had dented from the impact of the hammer. He ducked a second blow and sidestepped a third before finally launching an attack of his own at the goblin.

* * *

Kili kicked out with his leg as the orc's hand began to close around his neck, his foot finding a delicate area to come into contact with. The orc growled and his grip slackened for a second giving Kili the time he needed to draw and arrow from his quiver and stab it to the creature's forearm. The orc did not flinch, not seeming to feel the pain in its state, so Kili withdrew the arrow and made a cutting motion with the arrowhead at the wrist of the orc. This time it screamed, clutching its half severed hand to its chest as Kili brought his sword up in a violent slicing motion, cutting clean through the torso of the orc before him. The two pieces collapsed to the ground as Kili took a sudden step back.

The brunette dwarf had suddenly been overcome by a bought of light-headedness and he closed his eyes for a moment to regain his balance and composure. It was a moment that he could not spare however and only by another dwarf throwing himself in the way of the blade saved his life. Kili stared in shock as the blonde-bearded dwarf sunk slowly to the ground, red liquid welling up and bubbling from his mouth. The youth could not tear his gaze away from the now vacant blue eyes.

"Mahal…" he whispered in a voice he himself could barely hear as the fighting raged on around him. He could not comprehend the fact that the now dead dwarf's eyes were the exact same shade as his brother's.

* * *

Bilbo could hear his own quiet gasping as he stared into the eyes of the warg. One was milky-white, the creature obviously having to see out of only one eye when it had been alive. And now it was dead, a powerful hunter slain by a massive dent in its head, put there by an equally massive war hammer that the hobbit imagined to be much like Bofur's.

Taking a step back, he ran into the leg of another being who growled and lashed out at him with its foot. It caught Bilbo in his stomach and he fell back in a daze looking up at the goblin who had kicked him down. As it was, the bastard saved the hobbit's life for not a moment later one of the enemy's monstrous stones came hurtling down directly on top of the goblin, squashing it. The edges came to rest a mere hair's breadth away from Bilbo's toes.

A smaller stone had broken off from the larger body though and had moved slightly from the direction the boulder had been following. The fist-sized missile hit the ginger hobbit square on the head, not fatal but with enough force to knock the small being out. It was only a moment later when the shredded body of an elf fell half across the unconscious fellow.

* * *

Fili had finished dispatching the goblin he had been fighting, allowing it to become a warg meal when he had ducked one of the beasts jumping towards him. The blonde dwarf had moved away from the site and had found a new fight to engage himself in, one where it was two against one in the other side's favour. Of course, his skills were nothing to sneeze at and soon he had defeated them both, coming out of it with only a few new cuts and abrasions to add to his growing collection.

He had caught sight of his uncle again; the king was warding off a prowling warg with his own elven sword. Fili began to carve his way over to him when the loud cry of a disturbingly familiar voice sounded above the ruckus.

"Thorin Oakenshield," the voice taunted, "Come out and fight me unless you are the snivelling king you have proven yourself to be." Even though the words weren't directed at him, Fili bristled with fury. He glanced at his uncle who had turned to face the direction the voice had come from.

The king began to start forward, killing the warg with a well-placed blow as he went to accept Azog the Defiler's challenge. Fili followed behind him keeping a few steps away thinking to intervene if he saw that his uncle needed help.

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******I promise to get the next chapter up as fast as possible (and don't ask about what happened in Kili's last point of view for this chapter please, it will be explained when I update again). **

******Review to show how much you appreciate the effort I go to make you guys happy and update fast.**


	26. Blood, sweat and tears

**Second half of the Battle of Five Armies and I hope it lives up to your expectations. Next chapter is the last and, if I get some good reviews and if I finish several things I need to do, I will try and have it uploaded by Sunday. Enjoy. Lots of feels next update. Promise. And a long chapter.**

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**Chapter 26: Blood, sweat and tears**

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The dwarf before him looked disturbingly like Fili, so much so, in fact, that he could have actually been the blonde prince. But he wasn't and for that, Kili was glad. Still, the only thing he could think of was the body of his brother laying splayed out on the ground like this one, golden braids swimming in pools of scarlet blood. He gasped as something struck him in the back before he was hulled to his feet from where he had fallen from the blow. Dwalin peered into his eyes, trying to decipher whether or not he was seriously hurt, axe dripping blood that was fresh from the crumpled form of the orc beneath his feet.

"Are you alright?" he asked gruffly. Kili nodded, half in a daze before snapping back out of it. The older dwarf continued to eye him with concern.

"I can still fight," the prince grunted, staring around slightly wide eyed as he beheld the destruction before him. It surpassed even Smaug's attack on Dale and, if the stories were true, Erebor too.

"But should you be fighting?" Dwalin's question brought Kili's gaze directly to the tattooed warrior's face. He met the dwarf's eyes with a steely gaze.

"My brother and uncle are both fighting and I will not see them die if I can help it," he said stonily. Dwalin's expression was blank, not giving away his thoughts, but he acknowledged the prince with a nod.

"Aye, the I will watch your back," he said, walking around and behind the brunette as he did so to keep him within eyesight.

The pair continued to wade their way through the mass of bodies, all of which were either alive, dead or as close to dead as you could get. Dwalin was limping slightly and a graze half the size of Kili's fist marred the left side of his jaw. His hair was wild, several braids torn lose and beard mattered with the blood and gore of all the kills he had made. Kili was in a no better state, his hands slick from the blood that had been drawn as his bow had snapped. The brown-haired youth winced as he looked down at his hands, several dwarves giving them a brief respite from the fighting at Dwalin's direction.

"Do you need me to take that out?" he could hear the seasoned warrior asking. Kili shook his head and fisted his left hand as he closed his eyes and inhaled slowly. Quick as a flash he allowed the same hand to grab at the shard off wood lodged in the flesh of the top of his right knuckle. He bit his lip to stop himself from crying out and opened his eyes, dropping the piece of shrapnel by his feet and flexing his right hand a few times before redrawing his sword.

The pain hit him hard, the adrenaline rush he had felt before wearing off, but it was just something else to keep him alive and alert. Dwalin stepped up beside him as the two prepared to enter the very heart of the battle where the fighting was at its uttermost worst.

* * *

Legolas flew around the ragged circle taking as many of the enemy out as possible while doing so. He leapt onto the shoulders of a particularly large orc, giving its neck a good twist with his feet and lower legs as his enemy began to collapse under the elf's weight. It snapped like a twig so to speak and the blond elf jumped towards his next victim before the creature's body could hit the ground.

The prince's two blades whirled around, glinting in the gloomy moonlight as he continued to twirl to a beat known only to himself and those he struck down. A knife came just shy of his face at one point, drawing a thin line of blood along his cheekbone. He did not falter, though he was startled at how closely he had escaped death yet again, instead resolving to be more alert as he knocked another knife from the air.

Of the fifteen that had been initially surrounding him, eleven were dead; ten killed by him and one by a rogue warg who Legolas had skilfully let take out the bastard before killing the beast himself. His swords were slick with blood and his hands were having a hard time finding a permanent grasp on the slippery hilt. His eyes were constantly being blocked by the few strands of stray hair that blew into his face when small gusts of wind dared to stir the plain which was so very alive that night. His eyes themselves were stretched wide with anticipation as he tried to take in all of the chaotic scenery. The overpowering scent of fear was everywhere as the sweat of both friend and foe mingled in the suffocating atmosphere of blood and gore.

A flaming arrow pierced the night sky and the blonde elf was unsure whether it had been the enemy who had fired it. As his concentration lapsed however, one of the orcs he was fighting managed to get his sword between the prince's armour and flesh, tearing off the brace on Legolas' right arm and forming a long, ragged scratch down the path it took.

Legolas gasped in pain, barely stopping himself from doubling over as the full force of the fiery agony struck him. He used this feeling to fuel his attack and soon it was just him and the one who had almost sheared his arm off, the bodies of the orc's three other companions floating face down in pools of their own blood. Legolas went for the first blow but found himself quickly blocked. He withdrew his swords and lunged forward again, determine to slay the monster before him.

* * *

Fili was in awe of his uncle's skill with a blade. While he himself was apt at wielding two, his moves were no match for the graceful strikes of his kinsman. It was almost as if the dwarfish king was dancing to the tune of death, an eerily alluring and deadly tune. This dance also signified something else however, something that was far more dangerous than becoming obsessed with gold. Thorin had been completely taken over by the unrelenting pull of heated battles and revenge though he had not quite gone berserk yet. Somehow Fili knew that once the dark-haired dwarf faced Azog there would be no going back. It would be a fight to the death; a fight which only one could ever win.

A screaming orc dashed past him decapitating itself as it ran its neck right through one of his extended blades. Fili ducked another blade as it came towards his own neck which was one of the only parts of his body exposed by his armour. He gave a quick swipe to the blood trickling down his forehead from a scratch that had been given to him as a shard of rock had fallen from one of the massive boulders that were being hurled at them and followed through with his arm as one of his throwing axes landed home deep in the chest of a goblin. The creature spluttered before sinking to its knees, the light in its eyes dying out, albeit slowly.

Fili tore his gaze away and looked around for the retreating back of Thorin. Once he caught sight of the regal armour disappearing, he set off again. The blonde prince only hoped that he would catch up to his uncle before his uncle caught up to the pale orc.

* * *

Side by side Kili and Dwalin walked, slaying all those who dared to try and invade their already once stolen home. They had won it back through much pain of their own and where not going to give it up for anyone or anything. They only had to hold on for a bit longer, the only problem was that Kili didn't know how long he could hold on for.

The young dwarf's mind had begun to wander off from time to time, Dwalin often having to bring the prince back to his senses before the youth was brained by an unseen axe or war hammer. One time had been too close for either of the dwarves' liking, Dwalin literally crash-tackling his brown-haired companion to the ground to avoid the latter losing the upper half of his torso in the salivating jaws of a large and rabid warg. The same beast was later seen feasting on the remains of another of its kind before it was put down by an elf who had managed to make it this far from the archery lines.

"You need to stay focused, Kili," Dwalin roared above the din, reprimanding the youth as he was again drawn in to save the lad's life, this time from a goblin who had decided to prey upon the vacant looking dwarf. Kili shook his head to clear it growing worried when the slight muffling of the sounds around him did not fade. He shot a glance towards the older dwarf to let him know that he had heard and brought his sword up to his face.

Taking a step backwards, the dwarf parried a low made by a strong arm and was surprised when both his hands and arms shook with the effort of holding back what could be the bringer of his death. He ripped his blade free and swung it around at a right-angle, taking the rider of the warg before him by surprise. His next attack left the warg falling atop its dead quarry, massive eyes glazing over as it whimpered in pain before the life force that was holding it together vanished from the world.

Something other than Dwalin bowled him over, winding him and knocking the slippery hilt of his swords from his hands. He gasped for breath as a hideous face appeared above his only for it to fall forward as an arrow buried itself in the back of the warg's skull. Kili looked around for the position of his saviour as Dwalin helped him to push off the corpse. Only a few feet away stood Bard.

The man acknowledged the dwarf with a nod of his head before melting into the thick of things. As soon as Kili was up, he chased after him. Dwalin shouted in alarm and followed, concerned for the youth's mental state as he had not seen the king of Dale anywhere near this area of the plain.

* * *

Orc and elf ducked and dodged each other as they tried to land a fatal blow on their opponent. Legolas succeeded in knocking the orc's sword out of its hands but in doing so, he slid on a wet patch of recently spilled blood and lost his grip on both of his. The orc, seeing an opportunity, slammed into the prince of Mirkwood shoulder first following him to the ground.

For a time each tried to gain the upper hand but neither could quite manage to overpower the other. Legolas felt the quiver strapped to his back fold in on itself as he was rolled onto it for a third time as the orc grabbed the leg he had lashed out with and twisted it, the elf turning with the pressure so that the limb would not break. The blonde sat up and punched his enemy in the face causing a stream of black blood to spurt from its obviously broken nose. The orc screamed in rage and landed a fist in one of Legolas' eyes, the archer recoiling as he gasped in pain.

The two continued to roll beneath the feet of those fighting above them, madly scrabbling for anything they could use as a weapon. Legolas grabbed a small rock and bashed the orc over the head with it but the being just snarled and returned the favour with a much larger force that had the blonde elf seeing stars. He wheezed as he blinked his eyes a few times suddenly finding himself flat on the earthen floor with his enemy sitting in a straddle position over him. The prince tried to buck the creature off but to no avail, only growing more weary after each try. Racking his brains he tried to think of another way out of this.

* * *

"Face me, you monster," a deep, familiar voice yelled, the words barely reaching Fili's ears, "Let us end this now." The blonde prince silently cursed Thorin in his mind, wondering why, in all of Middle Earth, dwarves had to be such stubborn, pride driven creatures.

"One of these days he's going to get himself killed for it," the golden-haired lad grunted to himself, hoping that today would not be the day he would lose his uncle. Instead of dwelling on such thoughts, however, he began to move forward at a much quicker pace taking down any and all who tried to hinder his progress. It was not long until he reached a small area of which a ring of both his enemies and allies had formed to keep it clear of the fighting. And in the centre was none other than Thorin Oakenshield facing of Azog the Defiler who sat merrily upon his white warg.

"Have you come to allow me to end the line of Durin?" the twisted creature atop his mount asked of the dwarfish king. Thorin growled and set a foot forward, adjusting the grip on his sword.

"I think it is your line that will end today," he answered much the orc's displeasure. Fili could only watch in a state of horror as the two charged towards each other, the odds looking more and more bleak on his uncle's side.

* * *

Catching up to the beardless dwarf, Dwalin caught him by the shoulder and turned him around being mindful of what was going on around him. Kili was startled by the old warrior's reaction and opened his mouth to speak but was cut off by the other.

"What is up with you?" Dwalin asked, bellowing to be heard above the noise of the battle, "Taking off like that, are you out of your mind?" Kili stared blankly at him for a few moments before tearing his gaze away and looking around. A feeling of apprehension began to take root in the pit of Dwalin's stomach.

"I thought I saw Bard," the young dwarf mumbled, his reply causing Dwalin's concern to grow even further, "He must be around here somewhere. He ran off in this direction after killing the warg." Dwalin blinked in shock. A raven-haired elf had been the one to shoot the creature down before he himself was taken by the jaws of another beast.

"But an elf was responsible for its death. Bard hasn't even been seen in this area. He is further back with a group of his archers."

Kili looked back up at tall dwarf confusion dawning on his face and causing his brow to furrow as he sorted his thoughts.

"But I saw him," he said sounding convinced.

"I think you may have knocked you're head too hard when that warg slammed into you," Dwalin growled. But for all his words he could not help but feel a spark of fear begin to ignite within him. He made a decision. "Come on, I getting you out of here."

"No," Kili said, shaking his head, "I have to find Bard."

"You are injured and not thinking straight," Dwalin reasoned, eyeing the various cuts on the youth that were spurting blood which, when combined with each other, was a worrying amount, "And are in no condition to go looking for someone in the thick of this."

"But I…" Kili fell forwards as his eyes rolled into the back of his head. Dwalin started and recovered, catching him before he could hit the ground. A short bark of a harsh dialect made him look up and he cussed at what he saw. The orc standing above him grinned wickedly knowing full well that Dwalin could do nothing to defend himself or the dwarf he held. Taking a breath, the seasoned warrior prepared for the worst when the creature pitched sideways revealing the ruffled form of Balin behind it. The white-bearded dwarf smiled cheerlessly.

"Good to see that you've found the lad," he said, wiping his blade clean on the armour of a dead orc, "You need to get him out of here now and to Oin as fast as you can."

"Why?" his brother asked, frowning in confusion, "And isn't Oin part of the fighting?" Balin shook his head.

"He retreated to the far end of our side. He says that Kili shouldn't even be fighting, that he was sick the day before and he did not think the lad was any better today. He tried to reason with him but Kili ignored his warnings." The old dwarf's face was frantic, eyes gleaming with a worry that far exceeded anything Dwalin had ever seen him wear. "Just go to him, he will explain everything. I need to see if I can find his brother and uncle." With that, Balin was gone leaving Dwalin left alone to carry the unconscious form of Kili through and out of the fighting. Grimly he picked up his burden and set forth, calling upon several dwarves to get rid of the orcs in his path.

The prince muttered weakly, crying out and trying to thrash around causing Dwalin to nearly drop him.

"Hold on lad," he said softly, as if the young archer could hear him, "Just hold on. You are not leaving me now." Tears began to form in his eyes but he blinked them away angrily; he had a job to do and Mahal could smite him from existence if he failed.

* * *

An almighty scream rose up from the being on top of him as he plunged the arrowhead deep into the orc's chest and twisted it, grinding and mashing the organs inside. He could see a trickle of black blood and crushed innards begin to form before it was gushing out, covering the elf's upper body. Legolas turned his face away so that he would not receive a mouth or nose full of the foul mixture.

Pushing the limp form off him, the prince sat up and looked around. He scooped up a weapon from one of his dead comrades, his own swords lost amongst the carnage. Pausing only long enough to close the eyelids of the tear-stained face of the elf he had taken the sword from. Leaping back up and into the fray, Legolas began his rampage yet again, slaughtering the countless foes who faced him. He wondered how Bard and the three heirs of Durin were doing, whether they still fought on or had succumbed to death's careful embrace long ago. The blonde elf asked around for any news on the four beings' whereabouts while he fought and most pointed out that they had last seen Bard on the other side of the battle taking down the few remaining enemy archers. Thorin Oakenshield and his blonde nephew had last been seen together somewhere towards the middle of the plain, and yet no news of the youngest was brought forth.

Legolas was beginning to worry. He had no idea how he would explain to Tauriel that the dwarf was dead though he had admittedly had a while to think about it. The elven prince just had to find the young being.

The elf ran through the squirming throng, looking left and right for a face he would recognise, but other than that of the elves and a few of the men, he could find no one that was even remotely familiar. Just as he was about to give up he caught a glimpse of the tall, tattooed dwarf who had once been his captive walking briskly by, a bundle in his arms that took a while for Legolas to make out. But as the relevance of the pale face began to dawn on him, the pair was hidden once again by the sweaty, heaving bodies of fighting beings. The elf swore and began to vent his frustration out on all those who decided to engage him in something other than his thoughts giving a whole new name for fear.

* * *

Fili could have screamed out loud as his uncle narrowly avoided being crushed by the great maw of Azog's warg. He had tried previously to break through the circle closing the pair in but had been warded off by the orcs who made part of it up. The same was done to those who tried to assist Azog. The message was clear; this was a battle that only two could partake in.

The blonde winced as Thorin dodged another brutal attack, remembering the last time his uncle had confronted Azog and how it had not ended well. He could only pray that this time round the fight would turn in his kinsman's favour. The two acted as if they were playing a game of cat and mouse with the constant lunges and retreats. It was not so much a fight of brute force than skill and strategy and this meant his uncle had a chance.

Pacing back and forth, Fili noticed another white-skinned orc standing on the opposite side of the circle to him. The bearded fellow grinned and turned back to watch the fight, laughing as Thorin was almost decapitated. The blonde prince continued to stare at the orc, sensing a bad vibe that emitted from him in a great wave. His fingered his hunting knife, getting the feeling that if Thorin did end up winning there was nothing stopping the orcs trying to kill him for revenge, this orc in particular.

A short cry drew his attention back to the battle at hand and Fili almost cheered as Thorin drew blood with a well-placed blow, the first blood that had stemmed from this match. Azog, however, sought to redouble his efforts in killing the dark-haired dwarf.

"After I kill you, I'll hunt down and find those two brats of yours and kill them as well," the orc sneered. He smirked at Thorin's apparent surprise at his knowledge. "Don't think I didn't realise when they leapt to your defence back up on the cliff. Do you think they will do the same this time round?" He grinned at Fili menacingly and the dwarf stared defiantly back at him, head raised and gaze unwavering. If he was trying to provoke Thorin, it worked.

The dwarfish king launched a full out attack at the one-handed bastard in front of him, giving no ground and putting in everything that he had. If Azog was shocked by this change in character he did not let it show. Rather he grinned mockingly knowing that he had struck a vital chord within the dwarf who was attacking him. It was when his warg was killed, however, that the pale orc lost his arrogant, haughty air and really began to fight back.

How it happened was simple; the warg had darted in front of Thorin as he had been bringing down his sword to force Azog, who had dismounted by this time, to wither defend himself or take a step back. This had ended in the warg receiving a blow to the neck that almost severed its head from its body. Azog, at the time, had stared in a rage-filled shock at the corpse of his mighty steed. He had then turned those furious eyes upon the one responsible before letting out an almighty cry of rage as he launched his own attack against the king. It was now Thorin who was being forced to defend himself.

Fili was on edge and every clang of metal as the two opponents' swords made him grind his teeth harder and harder. It was now too hard to tell who had the upper hand and the stress was doing nothing to help the blonde prince. He could have screamed in agitation as the battle drew out longer and longer. The bearded orc showed no such signs of inner frustration however, he just regarded everything with a cool air right up until Thorin managed to floor Azog.

The pale orc went flying back and landed face up on the ground. He laid there, not bothering to get back up as Thorin drew back his sword to kill the bastard. He knew he was defeated, both legs bloodied and one barely able to support his weight. He was tired right down to his bones, the both were, and there was no way he could regain the upper hand. As Thorin began the downward motion of his sword another figure broke through the circle, that of the other bearded pale  
orc. Fili knew his uncle had not seen the creature behind him, own blade raised and ready to run him through, so the golden-haired prince done the only thing he could think of.

Blog sunk to the ground, Fili's hunting knife buried right up to its hilt in his chest directly over his heart. The world seemed to pause for a moment, no one daring to breath as the bearded orc grasped weakly at his own chest before pitching forward into the dirt in front of him and moving no more. Azog let out a cry of despairing rage and kicked the frozen Thorin away from him. But he was not after the king this time, he was after the one who had killed his son. Fili took an involuntary step back as the enraged orc charged towards him and raised his swords to meet the vicious monster that was out for blood, his blood.

Azog was a mere breath away as he raised his own sword and prepared to use it against the young prince. Fili, knowing that he did not bear the skills or the brawn required to defeat this monster prepared to go down with a fight worthy of one who was of his status. The pale orc never touched him though and Fili opened the eyes that he had shut to see the defiler's eyes glaze over for one final time, frozen in an everlasting expression of anger and surprise. The sword protruding from the pale orc's middle was removed and as the being crumpled he revealed his assassinator behind him; Thorin. Crying out with relief, Fili threw himself on his uncle as the last of the orcs and goblins around them were cut down. Many still remained alive but in the far distance he could hear the shouts of people calling out, acknowledging the descent of the giant eagles which swooped and glided amongst the stars picking off the enemy one by one. There was no chance that they could lose now.

This happy feeling between uncle and nephew vanished quickly as Balin materialised before them, face set and eyes gleaming with unshed tears of sorrow as he delivered the bad news. Without so much as glancing at one another, the two followed the old dwarf across the battlefield to where their invalid kin was situated.

* * *

******Thanks to all those who have reviewed so far. I would really appreciate it if you would review this chapter as well.**


	27. Pain, sorrow, and grief

**Alright, I done one better than what I promised last chapter. Been a day and here you go; the last chapter already finished and put up for you to view. (If you've seen this updated twice, it is just me fixing up a few gramma mistakes).**

**A word of warning; remember how in one of my earlier author's notes I said that there would be a character death? That has not changed. So don't expect there to be a happy ending. There isn't one and in a way I find that probably more realistic; I hate it when you read a good book/story and (using this fic as an example) someone gets poisoned and is then miraculously cured. **

**I hope you enjoy this last chapter and a special thanks to all those who have liked, followed or simply reviewed this story. **

* * *

**Chapter 27: Pain, sorrow, and grief**

* * *

Bilbo rubbed his head dolefully, wishing for the hundredth time that the bandage wrapped around it wasn't so itchy. But he couldn't complain. He was in a far better state than some of the company. He glanced towards the sick tent of which most of the company was stationed outside and felt a nauseas feeling in his stomach.

The hobbit had been found in a daze under the elf having woken a small while after the battle had ended. And though he had been afraid of what the others, especially Thorin, might say to him for disobeying the king's command and coming back, the company had practically ignored him save to treat his wounds. Bilbo could understand. They had explained everything to him once his concussion was deemed only small. He could not imagine how Thorin and Fili must be feeling.

Glancing around at the others gathered he could not see one smile even though they had won. They were all waiting anxiously with no small amount of anticipation to find out the exact price they would pay for the saving of Erebor, and not one among them thought the price was fair.

* * *

"Why the long face?"

Fili looked at his sibling, not cheered up in the slightest by his brother's sense of humour. It was just a brave face the brunette put on, one to hide what he was going through.

"Look, if you're not going to talk to me then uncle will, won't you uncle?"

Thorin said nothing back to his younger nephew as Fili sighed at Kili's instance of drawing them into a conversation. Both parties remained silent as they watched their bedridden kin.

Kili was situated between a mattress and several layers of bedding, his pale complexion brought out even further by the browns on several of the blankets and his own dark coloured hair. Parts of his body were covered in bandages, but, like Fili and Thorin, his injuries were not all that serious. Out of all the scratches, cuts and abrasions he had received, Oin was most concerned about his hands where his bow had shattered. That and the amount of blood he had lost when combined with his other condition.

Oin had explained to them in detail about the poison that was infiltrating his baby brother's systems. The healer had also told them that there was nothing he could do. The one thing he knew, however, was that Kili would most likely not last the day. So now Fili had to prepare himself for the loss of his sibling, his other half, while the youth deteriorated before his very eyes. The least he could do was provide support for the dwarf who knew very well what his situation was. Problem was he didn't think he could do it.

"You missed uncle killing Azog, for good this time," Fili said, unable to bear the heavy silence any longer. The words were not from his heart though; he wanted to know why they, _he_, had been kept in the dark about this but he could guess his brother's answer and did not want to distress him when any moment he could be drawing his last breath.

"Really?" Kili asked, turning his head resting on the pillows to better face Thorin. The dwarfish king nodded.

"Though I did have some help from your brother," he said slowly, watching the lad warily from where he was seated. The three lapsed into silence again, each uncomfortable with the lack of talking but Kili being the only one willing to do something about it.

"So we did it, we won," he said, a small, fake smile plastered onto his lips which were tight and drawn thin, "I mean the orcs and goblins are defeated and Erebor's safe and ours again, and Azog didn't manage to kill any one of us before he was killed, and-" Fili did not hear the rest and nor did Thorin as they both walked out the healing tent on the edge of the battlefield, unable to take any more. The others of the company offered them sad, encouraging smiles which we neither accepted nor returned as the two moved a small way away from their seriously ill kin.

"Isn't there anything that anyone can do?" Fili asked his uncle, tears beginning to trickle down his face but he didn't care as he stared at Thorin with beseeching eyes. The king shook his head solemnly.

"Not even Gandalf can help him. Oin asked. It seems that he will leave us whether we want him to or not," came the reply. Thorin was never one to invent false truths to bring equally false hopes. He was one, however, that would comfort his elder nephew if the occasion called for it and called for it the occasion did. He pulled the blonde into a tight hug, his own tears unshed and causing his blue eyes to gleam in the morning light. He wanted to save Kili just as much as everyone else but there was simply nothing he could do.

The two, uncle and nephew, stayed that way for some time, comforting each other as they regained control of themselves. Thorin received a message from one of Bard's messages regarding business leaving Fili behind to dwell on his own devices. The youth could not yet bear to go back into the tent and face Kili's cheery attitude so he mulled over his thoughts instead, sorting through them for no apparent reason other than for something to do. He was so lost in his mind that he did not see or hear Oin approach.

"Fili," the old healer said to get his attention causing the younger dwarf to jump. At first he thought the worst, but the grey-bearded dwarf's face would have been far more wary than it was now.

"What is it?" the blonde asked, heart racing as he hoped to Mahal that Kili had not suddenly fallen into a coma or had actually died, not when he had yet to say what he wanted, what he needed to say. Oin gave him a small, half smile.

"Kili is asking for you, wants to know where you've gone. He wanted to follow after you and Thorin but I forbade him from leaving the bed," Oin informed him.

"I'm sure he took that well," Fili replied lightly. Oin gave him a look.

"If you do not go to him now, I fear he may ignore my cautions and go looking for you anyway," he said. Fili sighed, not really ready to re-enter the healing tent.

"I just don't think I can handle it though," he said despondently. Oin looked him over.

"Kili needs you, Fili," he told the prince, "He has kept this to himself for a long time and I do believe it has darkened his thoughts and plagued his mind. Speaking to you would do him some good, help take his mind of…things."

Fili began to walk off towards the tent to do as Oin had told him when a sudden thought occurred. He whipped back around and spoke, his voice coloured only very slightly with anger.

"If you knew, then why didn't you tell any of us?" he demanded. Oin shot him a sad smile.

"Because he asked me not to. And besides, it wasn't my secret to share," was the reply.

"But why, then, did you tell Balin during the battle?" Fili inquired. At this, the half-deaf healer frowned darkly.

"Because your brother should never have joined the fighting. He had been sick the day before, throwing up everywhere, yet he insisted on fighting in the damn battle," Oin growled, "I told Balin so he could find your brother and pull him out of the fight."

Fili stared at him for a moment as he took this in. Anger began to build up inside of him, not at the healer, but at his brother who had kept this a secret from him for so long, his brother who had not told him that he had been sick, his brother who had so stupidly gone into battle knowing full well that he was sick. He was angry at Kili for a rare moment in his life. He thanked Oin for the information before he walked back towards the tent where his brother was stationed, being careful not to draw attention to his mood. Whatever he had to say he didn't want nosey busybodies listening in on him grilling his brother.

Walking though the doorway and closing it behind him to give both himself and Kili some privacy, Fili stopped and stared, all his anger draining out of him as Kili's pale and pathetic looking face smiled weakly at him, both pale and covered in sweat. The sight broke him yet he struggled to keep his composure if only for his brother's sake.

"Hey," Kili said feebly, his voice cheerful but strained. Fili smiled in reply and sat down beside the bed, drawing in a shuddering breath as he again realised there was no way out of this.

"Hey," he said softly back, stroking his brother's hair, "Sorry about before, I just needed some air." Kili, to his relief, did not seem to bear any grudge towards him or look as if he wanted to push the topic further. Instead he looked behind Fili, trying to see someone who wasn't there.

"Where's uncle?" he asked. Fili smiled reassuringly again, folding his arms on the bed in the space next to his brother and laying his head atop them.

"Thorin is busy at the moment sorting a few things out. He will not be long though," Fili said, seeing no need to tell his sibling that the king feared this tent, that he feared it. There was no sense in causing the brown-haired youth to feel guilt or abandonment, not now.

"Oh," Kili said in a small voice before he turned his head back to face his brother, "So who do you think killed the most orcs?"

The two talked for a while, being careful to avoid any mention of Kili's predicament. Both also unconsciously avoided any talk of the future as well, knowing full well what fate had in store for the youngest in any case. They talked of Bilbo and whether Thorin, now that he was in his right mind again, would forgive him. They talked of the pranks Bofur had pulled on Dwalin during the last few weeks. They talked of the elves and whether or not they were betting at fighting than the dwarves, eventually coming to an agreement that each side had their own pros and cons. They had just broached the topic of beards and braids however, when the first of many seizures struck the youngest of the line of Durin.

Kili did not cry out as he jerked around, though it was clear he was in pain. His limbs spasmed and his body lurched around. Fili called for help but his voice barely made a whisper as he leaned over his brother in a panic, hands flying everywhere as he tried to figure out what to do. Eventually he settled for holding his brother to keep the dwarf from rolling off the bed. He called again for help and this time his cries were answered, Thorin running in to assist with his jolting nephew.

Finally the seizure abated, leaving Kili out of breath as he went limp against the bed. The youth shot his two kinsmen a wan smile, eyes weary but face brave. Oin bustled over, having been called from another one of the healing tents by Nori, and began to look over the afflicted dwarf, face grim and eyes filled with a deep sorrow. He did not allow his emotions to get the better of him though, as being a healer he had seen it all before. It did not stop moisture gathering in his eyes a Kili cracked a weak joke however.

Thorin excused himself, giving a nod to Fili and informing his other heir that he had several tasks to clear up. He placed a kiss on his nephew's brow before departing, promising to be back as soon as possible, while at the same time eyeing the brunette's brother and the grey-bearded healer with a look that said to call him if anything changed.

Fili did not watch his uncle leave as he continued to rub the back of his brother's least bandaged hand dreading the moment that was now inevitably bound to come.

* * *

Bilbo followed the king a small way away from the tent shooting a few glances back over his shoulder as he went. He stopped as Thorin turned to face him and a feeling of nervousness begun to swell up inside of his stomach. The sense of discomfort only grew as the dwarfish king opened his mouth to speak.

"I was wrong to exile you," were the first words out of his mouth. Bilbo blinked in pure shock.

"Sorry," he said as his head reeled, "Come again?"

"I was wrong to exile you," the proud king repeated, his expression ̶ a cross between humility, solemnness, and regret ̶ unchanging.

"But I thought you were mad about the Arkenstone," Bilbo said. Thorin retained his serious expression.

"I am angry no more, and you are no longer banished," he stated, an apologetic look in his eyes, "Bard has agreed to return it after we have cleaned up here. And in any case, it is nowhere near as precious as some of the gems I already hold." Somehow Bilbo got the feeling he was speaking metaphorically and this culled any sense of relief he felt at the first part of Thorin's speech as he connected the dots to what the king was talking about.

"How is he?" the hobbit asked, afraid to know the answer but also afraid to be kept in the dark about it. Thorin's expression was grim.

"Deteriorating," was all he managed to say before Bofur came running, calling out for Thorin to come.

* * *

The second seizure was worse than the first, but not by much. Kili gasped as wave after wave of agony washed through his body and his limbs jerked around out of control. He hated this feeling and it scared him immensely, but he also knew that it scared his brother. He had to keep up a face of bravado for the blonde's sake or else his older sibling might just fall apart, taking him along for the ride. Kili didn't think he could stand any more pain, physical or otherwise.

Just like before, it took a while for the fit to stop and when it did, it left Kili utterly exhausted but he dared not close his eyes for fear that he might not open them again. He had heard of people who had been close to death speaking of a dark, lingering shadow over them but ad thought nothing of it until this moment. Now the same presence seemed to lurk over him, just out of reach but still close enough to give of a stream of bad vibes.

"Hey," Fili said as Kili turned his head to face him once again, sadness clouding his words.

"Hey," Kili said back, both at a loss for what else they could say.

Kili's eyes flicked to his uncle who was standing in the entrance to the tent. The older dwarf nodded at him, a reassuring yet sad smile upon his face before he disappeared again. Kili turned back to his brother, the decision he had guessed his uncle had made weighing heavily on his mind. But he could not fault the dwarf. He would have done the same thing.

"Well, if they say that death travels swiftly to collect a soul and this is about as swift as he can get, I don't want to see how slow he can go," he said jokingly. Fili did not smile but he responded in a forced light tone.

"You may just get the chance," he said, hardly being able to keep himself from shedding any tears. Kili saw this and reached out a shaky hand towards his brother.

"Come on, I'm not going anywhere just yet," he informed his other half. But in truth, that was what they were both afraid of for the agony would only grow worse the longer he stayed.

* * *

"So you're the elf that saved my nephew before," Thorin said causing the blonde elf to turn and face him. Legolas nodded his assent.

"Yes," he said, "Though I may not have actually saved his life."

"I know," the king replied darkly and the elven prince felt a small pit of guilt begin to form in his heart. It was ridiculous as he had done all he could, but still…

"Do you have another reason for seeking me out?" he asked, trying not to come off as insensitive. The dwarf folded his arms, the arrow in his hands rotating round and round.

"Are you also the one responsible for placing the spell Oin believes has been keeping Kili with us for a while now?" he asked, eyeing the glinting tip of the weapon. Legolas nodded.

"Yes," he answered, "Why?" At this, the dwarf king glanced down at his feet, seeming to struggle within himself for a moment before steeling his resolve. The dark-haired dwarf looked the elf square in the eye again, fingers finally stopping the arrow's movement. There was a slight pause before he answered Legolas' question.

"I have something to ask of you."

* * *

When Thorin returned to the tent for a third time, Kili was in the midst of another seizure. Again he did not cry out, but the lad could not help letting lose a few despairing whimpers which served to only further break his brother's already broken heart. The event abated just like the previous ones, but all those present had seen that it had been worse. Kili and Fili tried to keep up a light banter between themselves but all the witty remarks they made quickly feel flat. Thorin did not speak much, only opening his mouth to voice a few of his own thoughts in order to take all three of their minds off the situation. Often small scale arguments would break out either between the heirs of Durin or outside between the company but they were quickly resolved, no one having the heart to put their full effort into keeping them going.

If there was one thing they could all agree on however, it was that Kili, in the face of everything, was so very, incredibly brave.

Every few hours a new fit would strike the youngest of the line of Durin and eventually he gave in to the pain they brought with them, shedding the calm, cheerful expression to display the raw agony that he felt, unable to keep up the masquerade any longer. He screamed as they happened and cried as he gasped for breath after, Fili sitting diligently by his side the whole time as he watched his brother succumb to the poison in his system. Thorin was also there, relieving Fili by Kili's side when it got to be too much for the blonde when Kili was struggling particularly hard for air after a particularly violent seizure, and allowing the youth to latch onto his shirt for comfort as he wept from the pain, not caring about the wet patches that stemmed from this action.

To Kili, the two were invaluable as he sunk further and further into the dark crevices of his living nightmare. They were a sturdy anchor for him to tie his last shreds of sanity to reality, keeping him fighting though he knew that any efforts were futile. Their hands soothingly caressed his sweaty brow and the backs of his equally sweaty hands, twirling their fingers into his hair. At one point, on a pure whim, Fili spent a half hour in placing a single braid in Kili's hair, finishing it with one of his own clasps from one of his own braids. He had remarked in a shaky voice that it made Kili look more like a dwarf than an elf and that he didn't look too bad with one in his fine brown hair. Kili, at this point, had been too caught up in his own mind to acknowledge the significance of what his brother had done and Fili had begun crying again, sobbing non-stop into Thorin's shoulder.

And then Kili had fallen asleep.

The seizures had stopped but the sleep was clearly not natural, the young dwarf audibly struggling for every breath he took. Thorin had then disappeared after a quiet discussion between himself and Oin in the far corner of the tent, speaking in voices too low for Fili to hear. Not that the blonde had cared. He only had eyes and ears for his brother who was dying slowly but surely before his very eyes. He remembered his words from months before; _I would hate to find out you came to some sort of harm by keeping a secret not worth your life._ He wished Kili had told him sooner, yet he still would have died. Secret or no secret, it still would have squashed the life force out of his brother painstakingly slowly. A secret not worth his life. Fili withheld a strain of bitter laughter as the words kept on replaying in his head. A hand on his shoulder made him turn around.

Thorin was back but he was not alone. The elf, Legolas, was lurking in the door flap of the tent and the golden-haired prince could hear the rest of the company milling around outside.

"It's time," Thorin said, his voice thick with emotion. Understanding, Fili nodded to him before turning back to his brother and, swallowing his grief, bent to kiss the top of his only sibling's head. Thorin done the same, both lingering as they said their final goodbyes. Once they were done, Thorin turned and gestured for those outside to enter.

The company gathered around the bed, each and every face filled with immense sorrow. The elf too looked as if he regretted something as he moved to the place next to Kili's head.

Fili turned to his uncle, about to ask what the elf was doing here but the look that the dwarfish king gave him was enough to answer all his questions. He turned back to face his brother, reluctant to go through with it but seeing no other choice that could be better. Had it been anyone else, he might have left the room, but as it was his brother, his Kili, he was obliged to see it out to the end.

All present watched as Legolas scooped up the dwarf, lifting his upper body and supporting it against his chest so Kili, while sitting, was leaning against him. Closing his eyes, the elven prince muttered a few words in his own language, tenderly brushing the sides of Kili's face as he done so. At first the only sound that filled the tent was Kili's continued breathing but eventually that slowed and stopped all together as Legolas' spell took effect. No more did the young lad's chest rise as the blonde elf carefully laid him back own on the bed. The only other noticeable difference was that he seemed peaceful, as if he could no longer feel the pain.

Legolas reached out a hand and stroked the young dwarf's brow, muttering again in elven tongue before rising from his kneeling position and exiting the tent, giving a nod to Thorin as he done so. Thorin just stared at the shell of his nephew, rubbing Fili's head and shoulders in a way of comfort as both shed silent tears over the loss of their kinsman. The other dwarves and the hobbit all stayed respectfully silent, Bofur having removed his hat once Kili had been placed back on the bed.

They all stayed like that for some time, no other being daring to come and disturb Thorin for one thing or another as he mourned his youngest nephew. And when the slab of rock was placed over Kili's face at dusk, sealing him in a tomb of everlasting stone, Fili set his face and, while broken deep down inside, swore to go on without his Kili until they met again whether it would be in days or in years. But no more would he truly laugh for every time he did so, a vision of a bobbing brown head filled his mind.

* * *

Tauriel tore open the note with trembling hands, unsure of what she would hear. That she had gotten a message at all was a relief as it signified that Legolas, at least, was still alive. In the privacy of her own chamber she could take her time in reading the short note without having to avoid those who were interested in the events of other people's lives.

The first line was well enough, with Legolas stating that the battle had been one though half the force of elves he had taken were killed in the fighting. The second line gave no indication of what was wrong either, saying that Thorin had agreed to Thranduil's request in return for his help as long as it was in his power to do so. It was the third line that reduced her to a sobbing pile on the ground.

He was dead. Kili, killed in battle against the combined forces of the orcs and goblins. The only reassurance she had was that it was a quick death with him being run through the heart by an arrow. If it had of been anything else, she doubted she would have ever been able to recover from the horror of his death, especially since he had been so young.

Forcing herself to stand, Tauriel wiped away any stray tears before walking over to the small stand opposite her bed. On it laid several trinkets, one being the one the dwarfish archer had given her. Scooping it up in her hand she inspected it closely, the small but delicate features of the tiny, wooden bird so painstakingly crafted by his hands. Attached to it by a small piece of string was a coloured feather from a bird of some sort, most likely from the one she had seen fly off when she had first heard the dwarf's laughter.

Placing the note underneath the bird's base, she opened a small, silver box and placed both items in before carefully closing the lid. She then placed the box in a small hole at the back of the stand, hesitating over it for a moment before shutting it away for good. Composing herself further, she opened he chamber door and walked out into the hallways on the other side, shutting the door ever so carefully behind her as she went.

* * *

******-END- **

* * *

******In relation to how Kili died, it was an idea that I had a while ago. Originally no one was going to die in this (and it was going to end after the escape from Mirkwood) but then I came up with this idea and thought 'what the hell'. So this is how it ended up. The decision Thorin made was basically the same one as pulling the plug on someone's life support. I really wanted to emphasise the fact that whatever they done, Kili was going to die and painfully. So it was like that decision of whether to pull the plug or let them die of their own accord while suffering a great deal. The fact that Kili was unconscious for this was a good thing; it wouldn't have worked otherwise. Just wanted to explain myself.**

******So, what did you think overall? Did you like the ending/think it was alright for what it was? Like always, I'm happy to accept criticism so long as it is constructive.**

******PLEASE REVIEW IF YOU ENJOYED THIS.**


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